THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 

From  the  collection  of 


Julius  Doerner,  Chicago 


Purchased,  1918. 

9 \A 
FSS€ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016  with  funding  frorjr 

, University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


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https://archive.org/details/landvoiegleeorviOOfurn 


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LANDVOIEGLEE 


OR 

VIEWS  ACROSS  THE  SEA. 

A NEW  EDITION  OP  THE  “OLD  WORLD.” 


BY 

WILLIAM  FUKNISS. 


WITH  A MAP  AND  NUMEROUS  TINTED  LITHOGRAPHS. 


NEW-YORK: 

D.  APPLETON  & COMPANY,  200  BROADWAY. 

PHILADELPHIA  : 

GEO.  S.  APPLETON,  164  CHESNUT-STREET. 


M.DCCC.L. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1849,  by 
WILLIAM  FURNISS, 

In  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New-York. 


e/p>7  IZ'NtC 


F?ee 


PREFACE. 


The  reader  must  not  expect  from  the  “ Old  World ” 
any  egotistical  prologue  about  the  necessities,  virtues, 
or  occasions  of  the  author.  We  wrote  because  we 
liked  to ; and  among  the  retrospects  of  travel  we 
found  repose  and  consolation  after  the  toils  of  daily 
professional  labor.  That,  “ labor  ipse  voluptas,”  has 
brought  forth  the  fruits  of  our  wanderings  from  Eng- 
land a,nd  across  the  Continent,  by  way  of  the  Danube 
to  Stamboul  and  Alexandria.  We  have  sought  to  give 
raciness  to  the  style,  agreeableness  to  the  substance. 

We  trust  that  with  the  author,  his  readers,  both 
those  who  are  his  friends,  and  those  with  whom  he 
seeks  to  be  acquainted  in  this  form,  may  come  to  the 
conclusion  of  Solomon,  that  there  is  nothing  new 
under  the  sun  ; and,  that  all  Americans  may  rest  in 


467066 


IV 


PREFACE. 


that  happy  conceit,  which  boasts  of  the  superior  con- 
dition of  the  New  World,  in  the  three  cardinal  points 
of  a nation’s  glory — the  general  diffusion  of  the  com- 
forts and  conveniences  of  life,  the  diffusion  of  educa- 
tion among  the  people,  and  the  universal  enjoyment 
of  civil  and  religious  liberty. 

In  the  heartfelt  desire  of  attaining  to  that  happy 
result  of  the  poet, 

“ Omne  tulit  punctum,  qui  miscuit  utile,  cum  dulci,” 


I place  this  book  upon  the  broad  surface  of  public 
opinion.  I close  by  the  suggestion,  that  these  coun- 
tries were  visited  prior  to  the  Revolutions  of  1848, 
(an  explanation  due  to  the  republican  sympathies  of 
every  American)  ; and  that,  to  those  events  which 
have  subsequently  occurred,  so  as  to  completely  change 
the  political  aspect  of  the  world,  there  was  found  a 
cordial  supporter,  although  not  a personal  witness,  in 
the 


AUTHOR. 


Bloomingdale , N.  Y., 
January 3 1850. 


CONTENTS 


ENGLAND. 

Liverpool 

Chester 

Warwick  Castle  . 
Stratford-on-Avon 
Oxford 
London 

London  Sights  . 
Dover 

• 

THE  CONTINENT 

Holland 
Ostend 
Antwerp  . 

BELGIUM. 

Brussels 

FRANCE. 

Paris 
St.  Cloud 
St.  Denis 
Fontainebleau 
Lyons 

. 

VI 


CONTENTS. 


Geneva  . 

SWITZERLAND. 

PAGE 

70 

Mont  Blanc  . 

. 

. 

72 

Martigny 

. 

• • 

73 

Vevay 

. , 

. . 

74 

Berne 

• . • 

• • 

80 

Bernese  Oberlands 

. . 

• • 

83 

Saint  Gothard  Road 

• • • 

• • 

89 

Righi  Culm  . 

• • 

• • 

93 

Basle 

. • • 

• • 

96 

Heidelburg  . . 

• • 

• 

97 

Frankfort-  on  - Main 

... 

• • 

99 

The  Rhine 

. . 

. . 

100 

Cologne  . 

. 

. 102 

Amsterdam  . 

HOLLAND. 

104 

La  Haag  . 

. • . 

• 

. 109 

Rotterdam 

. . 

. 

112 

Saardam  . 

• • 

. 

. 114 

Brock  , , 

. r 

. . 

. 116 

Hamburg 

. 

• 

. 119 

Copennagen  . 

DENMARK. 

123 

PRUSSIA. 

Stettin  131 

Berlin  .•••••.  132 

Potsdam  ........  135 

SAXONY. 

Leipsig  .......  140 

Dresden  ........  141 

Saxon  Switzerland  . . . . . . 143 


CONTENTS. 


Vll 


Prague  . 

» 

BOHEMIA. 

PAGE 

148 

Ratisbon  . 

BAVARIA. 

. 151 

Munich 

. 

* 

152 

Augsburg 

. 

. 155 

TYROL. 


Innspruch 

Salzburg 

AUSTRIA. 

161 
. 164 

Ischl 

Vienna 

. 

. 169 

171 

VOYAGE  TO  CONSTANTINOPLE. 


Danube  sail 
Presburg 
Pesth 
Semblin 

Orsova  . • 

Gallatz 

. 

. 183 

184 
. 187 

189 

. . 192 

196 

TURKEY. 

Bosphorus 

Stamboul 

Pera 

Bazaars 

Mosque  . 

Goksu 

Sights 

Eyoub 

. 

. 201 
204 
. 207 

. . 211 
. 213 

215 
. 217 

218 

Vlll  CONTENTS. 

Firman  ...... 

Gossip  ..... 

Sorties  ...... 

Bairaam  ..... 

St.  Stephano  ..... 

Koran  ..... 

Manners  and  Customs  .... 

Houses  ..... 

Baths  ...... 

Street  Life  ..... 

VOYAGE  TO  EGYPT. 

Sail  through  the  Archipelago 

Rhodes  ..... 


TEN  DAYS  IN  THE  LAZARETTO. 

Quarantine  ...... 

Motley  Company  ..... 

Officials  ...... 

Purifications  ...... 

Salutations  •••••• 

Escape  ..•••• 


PAGE 
. 221 
232 
. 234 

240 
. 246 

251 
. 253 

254 
. 257 

260 


. 265 

274 


. 2S0 

282 
. 284 

286 

. 288 
290 


%ifA  nf  Slliistratinus. 


MONT  BLANC,  ALPS. 

MER  DES  GLACES,  MONTAVERT. 
LAKE  LEMAN,  FROM  VEVAY. 

FALLS  OF  THE  AAR 

LAKE  OF  THE  FOUR  CANTONS. 

LAKE  OF  LOWERTZ,  SCHWEITZ. 
BASTEI,  SAXON  SWITZERLANDS. 

THE  ELBE,  BELOW  SCHANDAU. 
BAVARIAN  ALPS,  TYROL. 
ACHERNSEE,  BAVARIAN  TYROL. 
BERCHTESGARTEN,  NEAR  KONIGSEE. 
HOF,  IN  AUSTRIAN  TYROL. 
iEGILE,  ON  THE  DANUBE. 

MOUTH  OF  THE  BOSPHORUS. 
HARBOR  OF  RHODES. 

ROOM  IN  LAZARETTO. 


E UROP E 


furnish  ad  by 

,J.  H.  COLT  ON 

Am  #6'  Cedar  S* New  Cork. 

- 1849. 


25 


18 


STATES  frc. 


1 Andorra,  (Spain J 
Belgium,.  (withLuxemburg  &.  CJ  . 
Cracow 

4 Denmark  (Ho  Istein  A c G.  C.) 

" Trance 

( England 
Great  } Wales 

x>  • r Scotland 
Britain  / r ^ 

\ Ireland 

Greece 

Anhalt  Jfernberg 
Coethen 
Dessau 

Austria  (about  % Get'nxan) 
Baden 
Bavaria 
Bremen 
Brunswick 
Frankfort 
Hamburg 
Hanover 
Hesse  Cassel 

Darmstadt 
kj  Hamburg 

^ I Hohen.  z.o  Hern  _ Hrching, 

! Siamarrj 

^ | Lichenstein 
^ < Lipp  p Beta  io  Id 


Signiaringen 


Schaueriberg 

Lxibec 

Mecklenburg  Schwerin 
Str  elite. 

Nassau 

(dderibui'g  

Prussia  (about  % German*} 

Reuss  (Lobstein&Greitz) 

Saxony 
SaxeAUeriburg 

Coburg  8k.  Gotha 
Meiningeiv  HiZdb  erghaus  en 
Weimar  Eisetxach* 

S clcwartzburg  (Bndolstadt  A jj 
Wnldeck  (Stmdershixusen/ 


THE  OLD  WORLD 


• • 

It  was  high  noon  of  Sunday,  the  16th  of  May,  when 
we  sailed  out  of  Boston,  in  the  good  steamer  Caledonia. 
No  day  could  be  more  propitious ; the  winds  were 
blowing  free  and  fresh,  and  all  our  passengers  were 
on  the  quarter-deck,  watching  the  distant,  now  dim, 
and  at  last  fading  outlines  of  the  yclept  “ Athens  of 
America/’ 

Outside,  the  sea  became  rough,  and  dark  clouds 
passed  over  the  hitherto  serene  sky  of  noon.  The  up- 
turned ocean  sported  wildly  with  the  ship’s  sides,  to  the 
worriment  of  our  poor  stomachs.  Vaunting  and  exult- 
ing landsmen  were  soon  “ sickbed  o’er  with  pale  cast 
of  visage ,”  at  the  bare  mention  of  that  dreaded  phan- 
tom, sea-sicknesst  The  most  desponding  grow  desper- 
ate ; and,  taking  violent  hold  of  the  bannisters,  plunge 
furiously  down  the  gangway,  and  fall  exhausted  into 


14 


ARRIVAL  AT  LIVERPOOL. 


bed.  Night  closes  upon  a few  stubborn  salts  on  deck, 
who  remain  quietly  smoking  in  the  cuddy. 

Two  days  of  damp,  foggy,  and  heavy  weather  were 
a fit  preparation  for  our  entrance  into  Halifax  bay.  In 
four  hours  we  landed,  and  took  in  our  mails,  and  were 
off  again  to  sea.  No  sooner  out  of  port  than  the  winds 
changed  to  fresh  and  fair,  and  our  vessel  was  directed 
to  her  points  for  the  voyage,  the  monotony  of  which 
was  only  relieved  by  the  sight  of  a whale,  and  a view 
of  another  of  the  company’s  steam-ships,  a few  days 
out  of  Liverpool. 

On  Saturday,  the  29th,  the  Welsh  and  Irish  coasts 
were  gladly  watched  during  the  whole  day.  Off  Holy- 
head  we  took  our  pilot,  under  whose  guidance  we  ran 
up  the  Mersey  in  gallant  style,  with  a strong  tide  favor- 
ing us,  and  landed  at  the  wharf  about  eleven  o’clock, 
p.  m.,  having  first  passed  our  valises  under  the  eye  of 
the  custom-house  officer. 

We  lodged  at  the  quiet  and  comfortable  “ Waterloo” 
in  Ranelagh-street,  kept  by  Mr.  Lynn,  famous  for  his 
compositions  of  meat  gravies  and  sauces,  and  were 
welcomed  to  our  inn  by  as  smart  and  pretty-looking 
bar-maids  as  ever  graced  the  inside  of  frilled  caps. 
There  is  no  resisting  the  exorbitant  bill  thrust  at  you 
by  one  of  these  pretty  maids ; and,  as  she  lisps  out, 
“ only  one  pound  six,  for  the  day,  sir,”  you  have  no 
resource  but  to  pay  up,  take  her  “ thank  ye,  sir,”  and 


' 


Holyhead  and  Light-House 


/ 


CITY  OF  LIVERPOOL, 


15 


a kiss,  if  you  can.  We  stepped  right  gladly  into  those 
snug  beds  after  two  restless  weeks  at  sea,  and  fell  asleep 
with  a confused  dreaming  of  bar-maids  and  England, 
our  overcome  sea-sickness,  and  our  homes. 

Next  morning  we  rode  all  over  the  city,  and  down 
to  the  docks,  probably  the  finest  in  the  world,  and  so 
snugly  constructed  that  all  the  shipping  lies  unobserved 
within  their  walls,  and  precludes  an  adequate  idea  of 
the  vast  commerce  of  Liverpool.  The  rapid  rise  of 
the  tides  renders  them  indispensable,  and  they  afford 
ample  shelter  and  protection  from  storm  or  accident. 

At  Birkenhead  we  took  the  ferry  for  Wood  side, 
and,  in  passing,  obtained  a fine  outline  of  the  city’s 
form.  We  were  much  amused  at  the  numerous  little 
low  black  steam-tugs  which  ply  as  ferries  to  various 
points ; such  determination  appeared  in  the  puffing, 
spirited  little  monsters,  which  in  all  respects  resembled 
our  horse  paddle-boats,  save  their  bright  fire-red  chim- 
neys, which  exposed  their  smoke  and  their  motive 
power. 

From  Woodside  ferry  we  walked  to  its  “Park,”  a 
large  extent  of  ground  laid  out  in  shrubbery  and  shade- 
trees,  and  figured  in  every  variety  of  hill  and  dale,  ar- 
tificial water  and  bridge,  pagoda  and  palace,  by  which 
it  is  possible  to  convert  nature  into  landscape  garden- 
ing. Some  poor  deluded  natives  resort  hither  to  enjoy 
this  fiction  of  rural  felicity,  and  get  up  pastorals  over 


16 


STREET  SCENES. 


the  frog-ponds  ; and,  if  I mistake  not,  we  disturbed  the 
tender  hours  of  a groom,  who  was  wooing  his  mistress’s 
chambermaid  under  a Chinese  bridge.  One  is  sur- 
prised at  the  tameness  of  the  sparrows,  which  fly  unmo- 
lested about  the  most  frequented  streets  of  the  city  and 
its  environs. 

On  our  return,  we  visited  those  quarters  of  the  city 
inhabited  by  the  poor.  What  misery  presented  itself 
in  every  nook  and  corner  ! Gin-shops  under  the  omi- 
nous titles  of  “ wine  vaults,”  “ spirit  vaults,”  abound, 
with  all  their  gilt  and  glare,  amidst  the  squalid  houses 
which  support  them.  Their  inhabitants  are  crowded 
into  every  cellar  and  alley-way ; the  poor  beset  you  at 
every  step.  Public  inns  become  the  prescriptive  alms- 
right  of  the  more  hardened  beggar.  Strangers  are  sin- 
gled out  and  attacked.  Vice  stalks  at  night,  and  shame- 
lessly demands  the  wages  of  sin  ; whilst  lust,  chained 
to  hunger,  hurry  their  victims  to  the  grave.  Never 
was  misery  so  universal.  Such  scenes  offer  a strong 
contrast  to  the  wealth  of  this  great  commercial  mart. 

On  Monday  we  found  our  fellow-passengers  at  the 
customs,  undergoing  strict  scrutiny  of  baggage.  These 
examinations  are  the  bugbears  of  travellers,  and  you 
have  to  submit  with  a good  grace.  This  mere  formality 
is  overcome  by  a ready  delivery  of  keys.  All  tobacco 
and  English  reprints  are  especially  forbidden  ; but  by 
a quiet  fee  to  the  porter,  and  another  to  the  steward, 


CHESTER. 


17 


one  manages  to  get  off  without  further  difficulty.  Hav- 
ing obtained  our  baggage,  we  returned  to  the  hotel,  and 
made  preparations  for  our  departure  for  Chester. 

On  crossing  the  Mersey  to  Birkenhead,  our  atten- 
tion was  called  to  a singular  illustration  of  the  equality 
of  color  in  England.  On  board  was  a very  respectable 
negro,  escorting  an  elegantly-dressed  white  lady,  who 
was  fondling  a molasses-colored  baby,  their  mutual  off- 
spring. 

A few  minutes’  walk  brought  us  to  the  railroad  sta- 
tion for  Chester,  and  we  were  conveyed,  in  about  two 
hours,  through  the  darkness  of  the  night,  to  the  walls 
of  this  famous  and  curious  old  town.  We  took  a fly, 
and  were  soon  landed  under  the  arcades  of  the  Albion. 
Our  landlady,  with  usual  English  inn  civility,  ushered 
us  up  to  snug  quarters  in  her  attic,  provided  with  those 
little  comforts  which  so  peculiarly  invite  on  new  ac- 
quaintance with  one’s  chamber ; where,  after  having 
eyed  all  to  my  satisfaction,  I retained  no  further  recol- 
lections of  that  night,  from  the  time  I mounted  a small 
pair  of  stairs  to  a very  fat  bed,  and  was  soon  wrapt  in 
a dream  about  some  queer  old  gable  ends  of  a very 
quaint  old  town,  caught  by  moonlight,  mixed  up  with 
visions  of  boots  and  hot  water  in  the  morning. 

By  early  dawn  we  were  out,  and  seeing  the  quaint 
and  funny  town  of  Chester.  There  never  was  a place 
made  up  of  such  odds  and  ends.  It  is  a curious,  and 


18 


WALLED  TOWN  OF  CHESTER. 


about  the  only , relic  of  the  walled  towns  of  “ Old  Eng- 
land/' It  is  a singular  patchwork  of  Saxon  antiquity, 
Roman  cohorts,  middle-aged  persecution,  and  modern 
improvements.  Here  a bit  of  railroad,  there  a bit  of 
church.  Now  walls  overtopping  houses  give  sly  winks 
into  private  bed-rooms,  and  crowd  out  bits  of  the  town ; 
then  pieces  of  town  hang  over  the  walls,  where  strag- 
gling abutments  thrust  out  their  elbows  over  the  ditch. 
Here  a Roman  hot-bath,  there  a Saxo-Gothic  cathe- 
dral. Beyond,  three  rows  of  galleries  peep  curiously 
over  the  street,  and  almost  project  to  the  opposite  piaz- 
zas ; anon,  the  streets  themselves  lose  their  way  among 
this  labyrinth  of  crazy  tenements,  whilst  the  whole  vil- 
lage is  jumbled  in  such  wild  confusion  of  shapes  and 
design,  as  if  the  ancient  carpenter  who  built  here  had 
taken  his  houses  and  thrown  them  at  random  on  the 
parish. 

To  appreciate  it  fully,  you  must  walk  all  round  the 
lines  which  encompass  it ; enjoy  the  fresh  and  glowing 
landscape  of  the  champaign  and  broken  country ; watch 
the  meanderings  of  the  river  Dee ; and  admire  the 
noble  freedom  of  that  superb  bridge,  of  a single  arch, 
which  spans  its  quiet  waters.  See  how  well  pre- 
served are  these  mural  defences ! One  becomes  en- 
thusiastic, antiquarian,  in  spite  of  himself ; and  so 
would  I,  had  not  the  cravings  of  appetite  called  me 
back  to  “ mine  inn." 


ETON  HALL. 


19 


Whilst  breakfasting,  we  had  rather  an  amusing 
conversation  with  a nice  old  Welsh  lady,  on  America 
and  its  people  ; in  which  she  showed  a woful  degree 
of  ignorance,  besides  coming  to  this  conclusion  : that 
my  fat  friend  was  English,  because  stout;  and  I, 
American,  from  my  natural  infirmity  of  being  slender. 
After  which,  we  took  a cab  for  Eton  Hall ; having 
first  been  warned  of  the  necessity  of  feeing  the  gate- 
keeper, if  he  showed  any  disposition  to  shut  us  out. 
Into  this  seat,  belonging  to  the  Earl  of  Westminster, 
we  entered,  by  its  pretty  new  lodge.  At  first  the 
porter  was  stern  in  his  refusal,  but  was  easily  quieted 
by  our  prepared  half-crown.  You  approach  the  man- 
sion by  a long  avenue  of  forest  shade,  and  ride  a mile 
through  its  beautiful  park.  As  the  house  was  in  re- 
pair, we  saw  nothing,  save  the  garden,  but  were  well 
repaid  by  a look  at  the  plan  of  that  which  is  properly 
called  Landscape  Gardening,  and  generally  adopted 
in  all  ornamental  grounds  attached  to  noble  estates. 
The  end  of  this  art  is,  to  unite  trees  of  different 
varieties,  in  graceful  and  pleasing  groups ; so  as  by 
difference  of  foliage,  and  dispositions  of  light  and 
shade,  to  produce  harmonious  and  pleasing  general 
effects.  A certain  portion  of  land,  near  the  mansion, 
is  usually  laid  out  in  shrubbery,  intermixed  with  shade- 
trees,  and  encircled  by  beds  of  flowers,  also  arranged 
with  a view  to  a happy  disposition  of  color  and  effect. 


20 


BIRMINGHAM. 


Beyond  the  “ Hall,”  under  a neatly  constructed  porch, 
we  observed  a well  preserved  Roman  relic,  which, 
evidently,  had  been  an  altar  dedicated  to  the  nymphs 
of  the  fountain  near  which  it  was  discovered.  This 
whole  country  bears  indications  of  the  presence  of  the 
“ Roman  Legion.” 

We  returned  thence,  and  took  the  morning  train 
for  Birmingham,  via  Clewes.  Our  ride  through  the 
many  way  stations,  gave  us  a fleeting  view  of  the 
surrounding  country;  and,  as  the  sunlight,  flitting 
over  hill  and  dale,  was  alternately  obscured  and  re- 
lieved by  passing  clouds,  its  effects  on  the  landscape 
were  highly  picturesque.  The  vivid  green  of  velvet 
lawns,  the  rich  verdure  of  the  rolling  plain,  and  the 
strict  preservation  of  shade-trees,  with  the  careful  cul- 
ture of  the  farms,  and  tidy  look  of  the  neatly-trimmed 
hawthorn  hedges,  lent  a peculiar  charm  to  the  aspect 
of  that  fertile  district. 

At  Birmingham,  we  stopped  at  the  “ Royal,”  the 
new  hotel  of  the  railroad  company ; and  thence, 
started  out  to  view  the  sights  of  this  mammoth 
manufactory.  Here  I first  felt  the  influence  of  a 
dense  population,  and  watched  its  movements,  until 
lost  in  the  wilderness  of  its  streets ; — so  absorbed  was 
I in  the  contemplation  of  the  wretched  condition  of 
its  crowded  and  overworked  inhabitants,  and  the  dis- 
parity between  the  estate  of  the  laborer  and  that  of 


WARWICKSHIRE WARWICK  CASTLE. 


21 


those  who  fatten  on  the  fruits  of  his  industry.  An 
artisan  only  can  revel  in  the  smoke  and  steam  of  this 
city. 

Out  of  clatter,  smoke,  and  monumental  chimneys, 
and  away  by  the  cars  for  Leamington,  England’s 
great  Spa,  the  resort  of  fashion  and  blood,  in  the  very 
heart  of  Warwickshire;  then  up  to  the  doors  of  the 
* Regents,”  and  hire  a fly,  and  away  to  the  castle. 
I was  fortunate  in  meeting  my  companions,  who  had 
preceded  me  to  Warwick  Lodge.  After  passing 
through  the  gate,  from  the  road  cut  through  solid  rock, 
the  noble  form  of  this  turreted  castle  burst  suddenly 
in  view ; and  is  by  far  the  boldest  and  most  pictur- 
esque sight  one  has  of  this  antique  pile,  clustering  with 
its  masses  of  ivy.  We  passed  through  the  inner  gate 
into  the  hall,  and  were  shown  about  by  the  house- 
keeper, who  acted  as  cicerone  for  visitors.  She  had 
all  the  paintings,  armories  and  furniture  of  the  palace, 
properly  catalogued  in  her  memory.  Although  we 
were  bored  by  her  particularities,  we  feared  to  disturb 
her  order,  lest  she  might  return  to  her  beginning. 
From  the  palace,  we  passed  to  the  Beauchamp  Tower, 
whence  we  enjoyed  a glorious  panorama  of  the  sur- 
rounding country.  Beyond  the  garden,  in  the  green- 
house, the  famous  Warwick  vase  was  shown,  and  a 
description  of  its  fall  and  damage  most  faithfully  de- 
scribed by  the  gardener,  for  which  an  extra  fee. 


22 


st.  mary’s  church. 


The  whole  aspect  of  the  castle  is  imposing,  and  its 
landscapes  are  charming.  Here  is  that  varied  beauty 
which  harmonizes  in  the  unison  of  art  with  nature, 
and  fills  both  mind  and  eye  with  satisfaction.  You 
are  carried  back  to  the  days  of  English  chivalry ; his- 
torical associations  hallow  this  spot ; and  memory 
reverts  to  the  olden  time,  when  “ king-maker  War- 
wick ” ruled  this  domain,  which  Queen  Bess  thought 
more  suited  to  a monarch  than  a subject. 

St  Mary’s  Church,  belonging  to  the  family,  is  an 
object  of  special  interest,  from  its  many  curious  relics 
and  monuments,  illustrating  the  history  of  those 
“ merrie  days  of  England.”  It  is  prized  for  having  been 
Queen  Anne’s  private  chapel,  the  interior  decorations  of 
which  are  truly  curious  and  precious.  Here,  I first 
observed  those  marble  sarcophagi  of  warriors  in  state ; 
monuments  which  afford  such  curious  pictures  of  their 
day,  that  they  may  be  studied,  with  advantage,  by  an- 
tiquary and  artist. 

Ere  this,  our  party  was  wrought  to  a high  pitch 
of  enthusiasm,  occasioned  by  the  novelty  of  these 
sights  ; and  nothing  would  discharge  their  zest,  but  a 
visit  to  a printman,  to  obtain  drawings  of  interiors  of 
church  and  castle : so  anxious  were  we  to  exhaust  his 
stock,  that  lots  were  drawn  as  to  who  should  be  first 
served.  I have  often  thought  of  that  scene,  and  of 
the  nature  of  that  shopkeeper’s  after-thoughts.  No 


RUINS  OF  KENILWORTH. 


23 


doubt  he  felt  the  advantage  which  he  possessed,  of 
being  nearer  than  many  of  his  brethren  to  the  locale 
of  that  freshness  and  eagerness  for  purchase,  which 
wears  off  as  experience  and  travel  increase,  and  the 
coin  in  one’s  purse  grows  low. 

We  calmed  down,  in  that  ride  to  Kenilworth, 
which  led  through  one  of  those  pretty,  quiet  bridle- 
paths often  met  with  here.  One  is  not  fully  sensible 
of  the  powerful  impress  of  these  ruins,  until  fairly 
within  their  crumbling  walls.  There  is  a poetic  and 
ethereal  fervor  which  electrifies  the  mind,  when 
brought  to  the  perception  of  the  mouldering  and  fallen 
fabrics  of  the  past,  not  unlike  those  phosphoric  emis- 
sions which  shine  from  the  core  of  decaying  matter. 
One’s  sympathies  are  irresistibly  enlisted  in  their  favor. 
A sense  of  departed  greatness,  the  recollections  of 
those  glorious  days  of  pomp  and  tournament,  the 
mournful  lesson  of  human  frailty ; all  unite  to  hallow 
the  sight  of  this  spot,  and  make  it  difficult  to  remove 
from  the  contemplation  of  what  was  magic  in  its  crea- 
tion, and  yet  still  beautiful  in  ruin. 

We  passed  thence  to  Stoneleigh  Abbey,  so  called 
from  the  present  Lord  Leigh,  who  erected  his  palace 
over  the  walls  of  an  ancient  monastery.  The  ap- 
proach was  through  a charming  woodland  park  and 
garden.  The  cloisters  of  the  court  still  remain,  indi- 
cating their  Saxon  origin  by  the  peculiar  oval  of  that 


24 


LEAMINGTON STRATFORD-ON-AVON. 


arch  ; and  the  new  hall  still  retains  part  of  the  wain- 
scoting round  the  refectory  formerly  used  by  the 
monks. 

The  collection  of  paintings  and  statuary  is  well 
selected  ; the  interior  decorations  and  furniture  of  the 
most  costly  kind.  Our  return  home,  by  a different 
road,  gave  us  new  and  more  pleasing  views  of  the 
abundance  of  this  fertile  shire.  We  spent  the  rest 
of  the  day  in  strolling  about  the  charming  village  of 
Leamington,  the  resort  of  the  nobility  and  fashion. 
Its  edifices  are  of  so  costly  a character,  that  it  has 
been  termed,  a city  of  palaces.  The  waters  of  this 
Spa  come  lukewarm  from  the  fount,  and  in  bitterness 
of  taste  surpass  the  most  revolting  species  of  horse 
salts. 

Our  jaunty  tilbury  rattles  to  the  door,  drawn  by 
two  spirited  bays,  and  led  by  a mounted  postillion 
with  red  coat,  jockey-cap,  and  “ tops then,  with  a 
snap  of  the  whip,  we  are  off  for  Stratford-on-Avon. 
The  very  horses  seemed  touched  with  the  spirit  of  the 
party,  and  as  our  gay  postillion  rose  and  fell  in  his 
saddle,  he  jockeyed  as  gracefully  as  if  for  fox  or  steeple 
chase.  One  hour  or  so  brings  us  to  the  “ White 
Lion  ” of  Stratford,  close  to  the  quarters  of  the  im- 
mortal bard.  We  first  drank  long  draughts  of  our 
landlord’s  bitter  ale,  and  then  walked  a few  steps  to 
the  “ House  of  William  Shakspeare,”  so  painted  on 


SHAKSPEARE  HOUSE. 


25 


its  pendant  sign.  We  took  in  every  word  which  our 
cicerone  related  ; and  would  have  fought  any  one  who 
questioned  the  authenticity  of  the  spot.  The  very  air 
was  scented  with  the  breathings  of  his  muse : we  be- 
lieve that  sign  ; and,  if  any  one  doubts  it,  we  took  a 
copy  of  it.  Few,  indeed,  are  the  relics  of  the  poet,  or 
his  chattels  within.  Descendants  have  divided  what 
strangers  have  not  robbed.  The  walls  are  obscured 
by  ten  thousand  names  of  scribblers.  How  few  re- 
flect, when  gratifying  their  own  vanity  under  a spe- 
cious tribute  to  the  dramatist,  that  the  flies  of  summer 
may  also  drop  their  own  insignificant  ciphers,  and 
burst  the  bubble  of  such  ephemeral  immortality.  The 
floor  and  beams  alone  remain  of  what  was  once  the 
bard’s.  Much  more  satisfaction  is  derived  from  visit- 
ing the  poet’s  tomb,  in  that  village  church  on  the 
banks  of  the  gentle  Avon.  The  very  grave-digger  in 
the  yard,  performing  his  duties  at  a grave,  reminded 
me  of  the  churchyard  scene  in  Hamlet ; and,  when 
you  cross  the  greensward,  under  the  oriel  window  of 
the  transept,  to  sit  down  on  the  banks  of  Avon, 

“ Where  our  own  Shakspeare,  nature’s  child, 

Warbled  his  native  woodnotes  wild,” 

you  almost  fancy  the  brook  to  be  that  in  which  Ophelia 
was  drowned,  or  the  swan  of  Avon  floating  on  the 
bosom  of  those  waters. 


26 


WOODSTOCK. 


We  hired  a boat  and  rowed  on  the  river,  to  become 
more  familiar  with  its  dreamy  shores  ; whilst  the  illu- 
sion was  livelily  sustained  by  a cup  of  “good  old  sack/’ 
with  the  host  of  the  “ Black  Swan,”  near  by.  We  re- 
turned to  the  “ Lion,”  and  soon  after  dinner  ordered 
post-chaises  ; then  were  off  for  Woodstock,  forgetful 
of  the  exorbitant  charges  of  the  inn,  and  its  want  of 
comfort.  The  road  thither,  running  through  a beau- 
tifully undulating  country,  passes  by  villages  whose 
thatched  cottages  and  quiet  little  churches  are  familiar 
to  our  early  reading.  We  were  surprised  to  find  the 
land  so  thinly  settled,  and  missed  the  presence  of  our 
neat  and  whitewashed  cottages.  What  few  villagers 
we  saw,  were  huddled  together  in  miserable  hamlets, 
far  removed  from  the  scenes  of  their  daily  labor.  The 
farms  are  let  out  to  general  farmers,  who  hire  these 
serfs  to  work  them,  and  are  seldom  honored  with  the 
presence  of  their  lordly  proprietors ; and,  again,  many 
acres  of  cultivable  soil  lie  waste  and  unprofitable,  for 
rabbit  warrens  and  preserves. 

About  nine  o’clock,  p.  m.,  we  reached  Woodstock, 
famous  for  its  buckskin  gloves,  and  put  up  at  the 
“ Bear,”  of  which  mention  is  made  by  Scott,  in  “ Ken- 
ilworth.” It  is  still  no  less  celebrated  for  its  larder 
and  cheer.  We  were  a merry  party  to  discuss  a veni- 
son steak,  or  a rabbit  stew ; and,  as  we  grew  warm 
with  wine  and  draught,  we  became  patriotic ; swore 


BLENHEIM CITY  OF  OXFORD. 


27 


and  raved  about  British  tyranny  and  oppression,  mo- 
nopoly of  landed  estates,  and  the  corn  laws : a proper 
and  healthy  discharge  of  our  pent-up  democracy,  which 
had  been  two  weeks  at  sea,  and  only  three  days  in 
England.  I sat  up  after  the  rest  had  retired,  and  had 
a long  chat  with  my  host,  whom  I found  intelligent 
on  all  topics  of  interest  to  the  poorer  classes.  We 
spoke  of  the  Duke,  of  the  palace,  of  all  matters  of  the 
day ; until  I had  spun  out  all  my  recollections  of  Eng- 
lish history,  and  charmed  my  fancy  by  visions  of  quiet 
English  country-life,  and  trout  fishing  in  the  brooks  of 
Woodstock. 

Next  morning  we  visited  Blenheim  Castle,  built  by 
the  nation,  in  the  reign  of  Anne,  a gift  to  John,  Duke  of 
Marlborough,  “ the  Defender  and  Preserver  of  Great 
Britain/’  Its  grounds  and  gardens  are  beautifully  laid 
out ; the  order  of  its  architecture  abominable ; its 
gallery  of  paintings  fair,  of  which  the  “ Titians”  are 
peculiar  and  apart ; the  library  well  selected  and  rare : 
but  its  lord  and  proprietor  is  a drunken  sot,  an  unwor- 
thy scion  of  his  ancestor,  whose  whole  conduct  shows 
the  absurdity  of  making  those  dukes  who  have  not 
common  virtues. 

We  rode  that  afternoon  to  Oxford,  and  had  time  to 
visit  several  of  its  colleges,  beginning  with  Magdalene, 
where,  in  the  beautiful  refitting  of  the  old  church,  we 


2 


28  addison's  walk — bodleian  library. 

admired  a specimen  of  sculpture  in  marble,  round  the 
altar  screen,  which  rivalled  the  antique  in  finish. 

Among  the  mementos  in  New  College,  the  Bishop 
of  Wickham’s  Crosier  recalled  the  primitive  simplicity 
and  persecutions  of  the  early  English  Church  ; whilst 
“ Addison’s  Walk”  seemed  pregnant  with  the  spirit  of 
that  model  of  purity  and  grace  in  literature. 

There  cannot  be  a more  impressive  spectacle  than 
the  “Main  Street”  of  this  classic  city,  amid  the  array 
of  colleges  on  either  side  : no  spot  where  such  pleasing 
memories  crowd  upon  the  mind.  Starting  at  the 
bridge,  you  view  the  river,  which  was  once  the  ford  of 
oxen,  from  whence  its  name ; and,  as  you  pass  each 
edifice,  which  seems  a temple  to  some  divinity  of  learn- 
ing, each  bearing  with  it  its  own  hallowed  associations, 
and  gathering  around  it  the  halo  of  its  great  and  wise, 
you  pause  awhile  to  gaze  upon  the  Norman  features  of 
Saint  Peter’s  in  the  East,  with  its  curious  old  Saxon 
crypts ; and  then,  in  turn,  to  wonder  at  “ Brazen 
Nose  ” and  the  Bodleian  Library,  which  seem  familiar. 
You  pass  on  to  the  “Hall,”  where  Charles  convened 
his  parliament,  after  retiring  before  the  Roundheads 
from  London  ; and  go  beyond,  to  view  that  cross- 
marked  pavement,  where  died  Latimer,  Cranmer,  and 
Ridley,  first  martyrs  to  religious  liberty,  whose  monu- 
mental Gothic  shrine  is  but  a cold  and  heartless  sar- 


Christ’s  church — London. 


29 


casm  on  that  parent  University,  who  educated  her 
children  only  to  burn  them  at  the  stake. 

Christ’s  Church  is  the  school  for  divinity ; hence 
emanated  the  famous  “ Oxford  Tracts.”  It  is  a curious 
relic  of  the  ancient  architecture  of  the  town.  We 
entered  as  the  choristers  were  chanting  the  daily 
morning  service,  and  were  deeply  impressed  by  the 
sweet  solemnity  of  their  well-attuned  responses.  In 
the  chapel  are  some  beautiful  sarcophagi  of  worthies 
lying  in  state,  and  some  rare  old  Saxon  tiles  imbedded 
in  the  pavement  of  the  lecturn.  To  crown  our  visit, 
Dr.  Pusey  appeared,  as  we  were  leaving ; he  seemed  a 
part  of  the  antiquity  of  that  church ; and  as  he  flitted 
mysteriously  by,  wrapped  in  his  own  musings  or  devo- 
tions, it  was  naturally  suggested,  how  easily  association 
with  antiquity  and  a life  in  cloisters  might  surround  a 
Roman  with  the  religious  goblins  of  the  past,  and  in- 
duce new  maniacs  to  wander  among  old  tombs. 

The  quiet  seclusion  of  the  University  has  been  lost 
in  the  din  and  noise  of  the  steam-cars,  which  took  us 
that  afternoon  to  London,  driven  along  the  last  fifty 
miles  at  the  rate  of  one  mile  a minute.  We  caught 
but  a bird’s-eye  view  of  the  noble  pile  of  Windsor. 
One  is  dropped  so  suddenly  into  the  bustle  and  noise  of 
this  great  metropolis,  that  your  first  impressions  are 
almost  snatched  away  in  the  excitement  of  each  suc- 
cessive scene.  From  the  moment  you  arrive  at  Pad- 


30 


TRAFALGAR  SQUARE. 


dington  until  you  reach  the  door  of  your  hotel,  one 
continuous,  dense,  and  active  population  crowds  upon 
the  sight ; and  as  you  pass  over  Temple  Bar  into  the 
narrower  limits  of  the  city,  it  swells  into  a tide  of  liv- 
ing heads. 

I was  first  struck  with  those  walking  signs,  moving 
around  on  two  pair  of  protruding  boots.  The  dense 
and  crowded  confusion  of  the  Strand  led  me  to  seek 
new  quarters  at  Morley’s,  in  Trafalgar  Square.  The 
situation  of  this  hotel  is  not  surpassed  in  London. 
From  my  windows  I view  the  Nelson  Monument,  with 
the  statues,  fountains,  and  the  fine  portico  of  the  Na- 
tional Gallery ; in  front,  Northumberland  House,  with 
its  drooping  escutcheon  (emblem  of  its  lord’s  demise)  ; 
and,  afar  off,  Charing-Cross,  with  its  fine  equestrian 
statue.  My  first  sight  and  constant  landmark  was 
“ Saint  Paul’s/’  with  its  ever  conspicuous  cupola  domi- 
nating London : — mausoleum  of  lost  centuries,  and 
second  only  of  earth’s  monuments,  which  ranks  Chris- 
topher Wren  next  to  Michael  Angelo.  Such  vast  pro- 
portions and  magnitude  seize  upon  the  soul,  and  lead 
our  thoughts  to  heaven.  The  impress  of  Divinity  is 
potent  under  such  sublimity  of  form. 

The  English  are  a church-going  people : on  Sun- 
day the  whole  town  is  afloat,  and  the  Strand,  so  full 
on  week-days,  is  crowded  and  thronged  on  the  Sab- 
bath. At  Saint-Martin’s-in-the-Fields,  I listened  to  a 


HOUSE  OF  PARLIAMENT. 


31 


sermon  by  Archdeacon  Robinson.  I observed  no 
peculiarity  in  the  forms  of  worship,  other  than  those 
representatives  of  royalty  in  the  persons  of  two  portly 
beadles,  with  their  uniforms  of  red,  supporting  their 
maces  with  dignity. 

We  strolled,  after  church,  to  the  New  Houses  of 
Parliament,  still  in  progress,  which,  when  finished,  will 
present  a fine  front  on  the  Thames.  Parliament-street 
contains,  with  Lombard,  most  of  the  government  build- 
ings. Westminster  Bridge,  which  is  the  nearest  to  the 
House  of  Commons,  gives  a pleasing  view  of  life  on 
the  Thames,  and  a grand  diorama  of  the  distant  city. 
Passing  thence  through  Regent’s  to  Hyde  Park,  we 
come  to  the  Hyde  Park  Corner  and  Apsley  House, 
nearly  opposite  which,  is  that  celebrated  equestrian 
statue  of  the  Duke,  so  cleverly  and  justly  caricatured 
by  Punch. 

Next  morning  we  attended  the  review  of  the  Horse 
Guards,  commanded  by  Lord  Londonderry,  which  is 
one  of  the  best  equipped  bodies  in  England,  and  made 
up  of  picked  men.  The  presence  of  the  Grand  Duke 
Constantine,  of  Russia,  lent  some  interest  to  the  occa- 
sion. We  were  somewhat  amused  at  his  Highness’s 
indifference,  as  his  mien  indicated  that  such  reviews 
were  matters  of  course  at  home. 

Thence  we  went  to  Kensington  Palace  and  Gar- 
dens. These  grounds,  which  lie  close  to  the  Serpen- 


32 


WESTMINSTER  ABBEY. 


tine  River  (the  resort  of  fashionable  suicides,  who  are 
kindly  provided  by  the  Humane  Society  with  a boat), 
are  prettily  laid  out  in  walks  and  flower  beds,  and 
much  frequented  by  ladies,  who  stroll  here  awhile  in 
the  morning.  Passing  out,  by  the  lower  gate  of  the 
Park,  we  stopped  a moment  to  view  the  lancers  at  their 
morning  drill,  and  there  took  the  omnibus.  In  a few 
minutes  we  were  at  the  Poet’s  Corner,  on  our  way  to 
Westminster  Abbey.  The  secluded  nook  of  the  poets’ 
monuments  first  claims  notice  on  entering,  and  our 
poetic  associations  make  us  familiar  with  the  bust  of 
the  great  within. 

The  next  object  of  interest  is  the  superb  Chapel  of 
Henry  the  Seventh.  Too  many  have  already  done 
justice  to  the  beauties  of  this  hallowed  spot.  Those 
silent  and  powerful  feelings  which  arise  spontaneously, 
and  are  suggested  by  a contact  with  things  sacred,  are 
the  meetest  tribute  which  can  be  paid  by  the  scholar 
or  the  traveller. 

From  “ grave  to  lively,”  I was  led  to  visit  Madame 
Tussaud’s  collection  of  wax-figures  in  the  evening.  In 
doing  this  I was  guided  more  by  a taste  for  the  absurd 
than  any  hope  of  improvement  in  art.  It  is  sometimes 
well  to  watch  the  trivial  springs  of  our  minor  actions, 
which  account  for  the  successful  workings  of  humbug. 
I was  curious  to  observe  its  relation  with  English  cha- 
racter, and  was  satisfied  to  learn  that  the  type  of  Mrs. 


LONDON  SIGHTS TOWER. 


33 


Jarley,  in  London,  stood  no  less  marked  than  its  anti- 
type, the  mermaid,  at  Barnum’s,  in  New-York. 

Who  goes  for  the  jolly  life  of  London,  let  him 
walk  to  Hungerford  landing,  and  jump  aboard  one  of 
the  halfpenny  or  twopenny  ferries  which  ply  the  river 
in  all  directions.  It  is  a constant  scene  of  diversion, 
to  drop  indifferently  on  any  one,  and  go  wherever  it 
may  please.  You  get  a glimpse  of  all  the  buildings 
by  the  water’s  edge,  and  as  you  run  under  the  bridges, 
your  steam-tub  most  respectfully  doffs  his  pipe,  as  if 
in  reverence  to  the  Queen’s  authority.  Besides,  it  is- 
the  nearest  way  of  going  to  the  Tower  ; or  you  may 
stop  at  London  Bridge,  and  walk  through  Lower 
Thames-street,  to  view  the  shipping  and  docks,  with 
the  wine-vaults. 

At  the  Tower,  you  take  a yeoman  guide,  equipped 
in  his  proper  dress  and  halberd,  who  shows  you  the 
Armory  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh’s  prison.  The  collec- 
tion is  interesting,  so  far  as  it  presents  a historical  view 
of  the  use,  abuse,  and  discontinuance  of  all  arms  and 
weapons  of  war,  from  earliest  times  to  the  period  of 
Charles  the  Second ; and  you  may  see  there  some 
curious  instruments  for  the  torture  of  poor  prisoners, 
or  for  the  extortion  of  evidence  under  the  rack.  The 
regalia  in  the  jewel-room  are  worthy  of  notice  merely 
from  their  association  with  the  wearers.  My  sym- 
pathies were  most  enlisted  for  the  head  which  once 


34 


WAPPING TUNNEL ST.  PAUL’S. 


rested  in  the  crown  of  Anne  Bullen.  Passing  thence 
across  the  court-yard,  that  dark  stain  on  the  pavement 
marks  the  spot  where  queens  were  beheaded.  The 
old  Tower  Church  beyond  tells  of  the  burial  of  those 
victims  who  died  here  under  confinement ; and  that 
gloomy  recess  in  the  wall  within,  shows  marks  of  a 
scaffolding  where  males  were  executed.  As  you  ap- 
proach the  outer  gate,  your  guide  whispers  that  two 
little  princes  were  murdered  in  that  room ; and,  just 
above,  he  points  his  staff'  at  the  little  grated  window, 
where  Queen  Elizabeth  was  only  once  confined. 

What  a memorial  of  murder,  tyranny,  and  blood  is 
that  Tower ! 

A walk  through  Wapping  soon  brought  me  to  the 
Tunnel.  It  is  a very  damp  walk  for  a stranger,  under 
the  oozing  bed  of  the  Thames  ; whilst  one  has  visions 
of  sea-weed,  soft-shelled  clams,  and  of  drowning,  for 
you  are  literally  over  your  head  in  water.  In  the 
alcoves  of  the  arches  are  little  shops  for  the  sale  of 
trinkets  and  “ Dioramas  of  the  Tunnel.”  Their  women 
shopkeepers  told  me  their  abodes  were  rather  moist, 
and  sales  very  slow. 

I returned  again  to  London  Bridge,  and  walked  into 
Saint  Paul’s,  for  an  interior.  There  is  a disgraceful 
charge  of  four  shillings  and  sixpence  for  visiting  all 
parts  of  this  church,  and  no  one  should  pay  it  for  try- 
ing to  catch  a panorama  of  London  from  the  Ball, 


NATIONAL  GALLERY. 


35 


through  a fog ; but  stay  down  stairs,  pay  twopence  to 
the  saucy  gruff  sexton  or  beadle,  and  study  the  noble 
proportions  of  the  interior,  the  perfect  curvature  of  the 
dome,  and  the  many  grand  monuments  which  adorn 
the  walls  and  niches ; but  do  not  forget  the  tomb  of 
the  builder. 

I met  a friend  as  I stepped  out  of  Saint  Paul’s ; we 
went  quietly  together  round  the  corner,  into  the 
“Black  Swan,”  famous  for  its  porter,  and  regaled  our- 
selves with  “heavy  wet,”  and  “half-and-half.”  You 
want  a friend  to  tell  you  where  to  get  beefsteaks  in 
London,  especially  if  you  are  lodging  at  your  inn. 
We  went  afterwards  to  the  National  Gallery,  in  Traf- 
algar Square,  not  to  hurry  over  the  water  colors,  but  to 
admire  that  collection  of  paintings  which  has  some 
choice  gems  of  the  Old  Masters  that  often  haunt  you, 
even  among  the  galleries  of  Italy. 

Grisi  sang  at  Covent  Garden  in  the  evening.  The 
company  this  winter  was  far  better  selected  than  that 
of  the  Opera,  although  Jenny  Lind  was  there.  Grisi 
never  was  surpassed  in  Norma,  for  she  has  that  rare 
combination  of  physique  and  voice  necessary  to  per- 
fect a singer.  Her  acting  was  inimitable  and  epic,  and 
Casta  Diva  was  uttered  in  the  fulness  of  her  powers. 
The  house  was  so  crowded  that  we  were  obliged  to 
stand  during  the  whole  evening ; but  our  fatigue  was 

forgotten,  under  the  spell  of  her  warblings. 

2* 


36 


TEMPLE  CHURCH JENNY  LIND. 


Next  day  was  set  apart  for  the  Museum— the  most 
noble  institution,  devoted  to  the  pursuit  of  science,  in 
Europe.  Besides  the  collections  in  botany,  zoology, 
and  mineralogy,  those  of  antiquities  and  Elgin  marbles 
are  the  most  remarkable  and  interesting  in  the  world. 
One  could  spend  weeks  in  the  examination  of  its  curi- 
osities, without  entering  within  the  treasures  of  the 
library. 

Within  Temple  Bar  stands  Temple  Church,  a relic 
of  the  Crusaders,  built  after  their  return,  from  the  ori- 
ginal of  the  Holy  Cross,  at  Jerusalem,  which,  with  its 
modern  additions,  completes  a perfect  structure. 

We  whiled  away  most  of  the  morning  in  viewing 
its  monuments,  which,  during  the  recent  renovation  of 
the  edifice,  were  restored  and  set  aside  in  the  outer 
gallery  of  the  vestibule.  In  cleaning  the  pillars  which 
support  the  roof,  they  were  discovered  to  be  of  Pur- 
beck  marble,  which  had  been  whitewashed  during  the 
Rebellion,  to  prevent  their  destruction,  and  the  ruin  of 
some  beautifully  sculptured  effigies  of  the  knights  on 
the  floor. 

In  the  evening  of  that  day  I attended  the  Royal 
Opera,  and  heard  Jenny  Lind  in  “ Roberto  il  Diavolo.” 
She  sang  charmingly ; her  voice  was  of  the  purest 
tone  ; and  she  so  chaste,  so  classic  in  her  style.  The 
house  was  crowded  to  excess,  and  even  many  women 
stood  during  the  whole  opera,  often  supporting  them 


SATURDAY  NIGHT. 


37 


selves  on  the  backs  of  the  chairs,  or  hanging  barely 
by  a precarious  foothold.  Never  was  an  audience  so 
enthusiastic,  or  in  such  a furor.  I had  never  a con- 
ception before  of  the  susceptibility  of  the  human  voice, 
and  in  some  passages  her  warblings  approached  to  the 
voluptuous  richness  of  the  nightingale.  There  were 
some  notes  of  such  poetic  beauty,  that  they  seemed  to 
flow  from  the  recesses  of  her  heart,  not  unlike  rays 
through  an  oriel  window,  on  which  a thought  might 
wing  its  way  to  heaven. 

Castellan  sang  in  company,  but  was  lost  between 
the  Queen  and  Jenny ; so  great  were  the  fascina- 
tions of  this  songstress,  that  even  the  ballet  could  not 
retain  those  who  were  contented  to  retire  with  the 
opera. 

The  Queen  was  a constant  attendant  during  the 
entire  season,  and  on  all  occasions,  excepting  the  state 
visits,  keeps  herself  somewhat  withdrawn  from  the 
audience  : at  such  stated  times,  her  presence  is  noticed 
by  the  National  Anthem,  and  her  maids  then  have  to 
stand  during  the  entire  evening. 

Saturday  night  is  that  which  displays  the  outpour- 
ing of  the  overteeming  population  of  the  town ; gin 
shops  become  splendidly  illuminated  palaces,  pouring 
out  of  their  windows  the  blaze  of  that  hell  which  rages 
with  destruction  and  ruim  to  the  victims  within. 

The  Strand  is  filled  to  overflowing  with  innumerable 
2* 


38 


HYDE  PARK. 


wretches,  of  both  sexes,  and  crowds  of  honest  laborers 
returning  homeward  with  their  hard-earned  wages. 
The  shops  are  brilliant  with  the  display  of  goods  under 
rich  gas-lights,  and  industry  is  active  in  supplying  the 
increased  demand.  All  is  bustle,  confusion,  din,  and 
noise ; and  increases  until  the  first  hours  of  the  Sab- 
bath, when  it  becomes  not  unlike  darkness  itself,  more 
confused  and  obscure  just  previous  to  the  very  opening 
of  the  approaching  day. 

Contrasted  with  the  confusion  of  the  “ City,”  Hyde 
Park  displays  its  array  of  equipages,  about  five  o’clock 
in  the  afternoon,  when  attention  is  divided  between 
the  horsemanship  of  the  riders  and  the  idea  of  wealth 
and  luxury  expressed  by  the  crowds  of  vehicles  which 
slowly  roll  through  the  avenues  of  the  Park.  There 
appeared  an  air  of  general  indifference  and  satiety  in 
the  faces  of  all  the  women  of  rank ; but  very  little  of 
beauty  in  the  countenances  of  those  pussy  dowagers 
and  listlessly  pouting  young  ladies.  I must  say  the 
flunkies  and  the  footmen  were  the  only  correct  things, 
and  under  the  magnificence  of  the  occasion,  there  was 
a good  smattering  of  Vanity  Fair. 

Get  tickets  of  admission  from  your  banker,  spend 
an  hour  waiting  in  the  anteroom,  and  you  may  pass  a 
profitable  evening  until  midnight,  listening  to  the  de- 
bates of  the  Commons.  There  is  a free  and  easy  man- 
ner in  the  House,  and  cosiness  of  discussion,  which 


HOUSE  OF  COMMONS HAMPTON  COURT. 


39 


suits  the  character  of  an  old  established  form.  Most 
of  the  members  have  their  hats  on  ; some  one  or  two 
lovingly  embrace  the  Speaker,  and  are  tapping  him 
quietly  on  the  shoulder  : — a few  uncouth  postures  es- 
tablish the  dignity  of  the  order.  Loud  talking  and 
“ hear  him  ” interrupt  the  sentences  of  the  orator  on 
the  stand.  The  Portuguese  question  is  on,  whilst  Lord 
John  Manners  is  sawing  the  air,  and  pendulating  his 
body  over  the  table  before  which  he  swings.  A whin- 
ing schoolboy  of  our  village  might  equal  his  powers  of 
declamation.  Lord  George  Bentinck  followed,  with  as 
few  graces  of  oratory  or  diction ; and  Macaulay  alone 
was  listened  to  with  attention,  for  his  words  were 
earnest,  and  his  ideas  were  the  easy  offspring  of  a well- 
stored  mind.  That  House  of  Commons  was  by  no 
means  as  dignified  as  our  Lower  House,  and  little  less 
can  be  said. 

A day  or  two  afterwards,  we  took  the  cars  at  Nine 
Elms,  for  Richmond ; and  thence  by  omnibus,  passing 
by  Strawberry  Hill,  to  Hampton  Court.  This  palace 
was  built  by  Cardinal  Wolsey,  and  presented  by  him 
to  Henry  VIII.  Many  of  its  paintings  are  excellent ; 
but  are  chiefly  portraits  of  the  royal  families,  and  dis- 
tinguished nobles.  Raphael's  cartoons  are  hung,  in 
ragged  outline,  round  the  walls  of  its  beautiful  chapel. 
The  grounds  are  prettily  laid  out,  and  embrace  an  ex- 
tent of  miles,  but  they  are  seldom  frequented  by  the 


40 


HOTEL  FEES DOVER. 


royal  family.  You  can  return  by  another  route  to 
Nine  Elms,  and  thence  to  London  by  the  river,  passing 
by  Chelsea,  Vauxhall  Garden,  and  Lambeth  Palace. 

Having  nearly  exhausted  London,  we  made  prepa- 
rations for  our  departure.  In  settling  your  hotel  bill, 
in  England,  you  avoid  much  annoyance  by  ordering 
the  service  to  be  included.  This  charge,  though 
trifling,  after  the  exorbitant  prices  of  first-class  lodgings, 
is  unjust,  because  the  servants  receive  no  portion  of 
it.  Pay  it  therefore  with  a good  grace,  or  you  will  be 
beset  by  the  waiter,  chambermaid,  “boots''  and  porter. 
At  Surryside  you  take  the  cars  for  Dover.  You  will 
be  charmed  with  the  regularity  and  police  of  all  the 
English  railroads : no  one  can  take  any  other  than 
first  class  in  England,  who  wishes  to  travel  with  ease. 
The  second  have  no  cushions,  your  baggage  goes  over 
your  seat ; and  you  are  impelled  at  the  rate  of  forty,  or 
more  miles,  the  hour. 

This  road  passes  through  a very  pretty  section  of 
the  country,  and  gives  frequent  opportunities  of  view- 
ing the  chalk  formations.  There  are  no  less  than  five 
tunnels  on  the  way  to  Dover,  which  could  only  have 
been  excavated  in  chalk.  We  reached  Dover  before 
sunset,  and  caught  a glimpse  of  its  position,  as  it  is 
nestled  between  the  castle,  which  crowns  its  pro- 
montory on  the  east,  and  the  Shakspeare  cliff  which 
limits  its  western  aspect.  We  can  commend  the 


CROSSING  TO  OSTEND. 


41 


“Clarendon,”  though  small,  as  comfortable  and  good; 
for  we  spent  the  night  in  it,  before  we  took  leave  of 
“ merrie  England a term  which  we  have  never  seen 
applied  with  propriety  by  any  other  writer  but  Shaks- 
peare;  and  which  we  deem  inappropriate  since  the 
middle  ages. 


THE  CONTINENT. 


THE  CHANNEL. 

The  incontinent  and  fickle  North  Sea  was  evi- 
dently intended,  by  Nature,  as  a compensation  for  that 
want  of  rock-bound  coast  which  characterizes  the 
frontiers  of  Belgium  and  Holland.  That  formidable 
barrier  of  waves,  rolling  in  long  deep  furrows  to  the 
land,  swells  from  the  magnitude  of  a continent ; and 
breaks  the  monotony  of  those  ideas  which  have  been 
fostered  amid  the  comforts  and  strict  economy  of 
English  life.  Those  four  hours  of  crossing,  from 
Dover  to  Ostend,  were  pregnant  with  merriment  and 
mishaps,  which  made  us  forget  the  horrors ' of  the 
“ Manche;”  and  opened  our  minds  for  the  perception  of 
new  pleasures,  and  fresh  joys.  In  fact,  the  sea  was 
very  calm ; and  only  one  angry  swell,  at  the  haven, 
caused  us  to  wish  for  the  light-house,  and  to  welcome 
the  flats  of  Flanders.  We  were  besieged,  on  landing, 
by  a crowd  of  animated  Flemings,  who,  no  doubt, 


Landing  at  the  Haven  of  Ostend. 


OSTEND  TO  ANTWERP. 


43 


mistook  us  for  Englishmen  ; but  soon  found  they  had 
a cargo  of  live  Yankees.  Here,  indeed,  the  interest  of 
foreign  travel  commences,  the  manners  and  customs 
of  the  people  become  peculiar,  and  every  object  no- 
ticeable. 

Their  women  wear  very  high  caps  and  sabots  ; 
and  their  blouse  gowns,  overhung  by  tidy  spencers, 
with  ruffled  tucks  skirting  their  waists,  under  the  folds 
of  a small  shawl,  gave  them  a very  marine  and  washer- 
woman aspect.  From  infancy,  they  are  accustomed 
to  those  heavy  wooden  shoes,  in  which  they  trot  over 
their  pebble-paved  ways  that  are  all  street,  and  no  side- 
walk. Their  neatly  built  houses,  with  high  gables  and 
tiny  tiled  roofs,  indicate  a Flemish  landscape ; and 
their  language  is  such  a gibberish  of  patois,  as  if  Ger- 
many and  France  had  flown  across  the  country,  and 
melted  down  into  Flanders.  We  soon  walked  through 
their  little  territory ; and  whilst  waiting  the  inspection 
of  our  baggage,  partook  of  a rare  dinner  of  Kraut  and 
Paprica,  which  is  a singular  conglomerate  of  all  the 
kingdoms,  fish,  flesh  and  fowl. 

We  hurried  away  to  the  railroad,  but  not  a word 
could  we  speak  of  that  unknown  tongue,  to  these  sub- 
marines. So  we  held  out  both  hands  when  we  took 
our  tickets,  and  bid  them  take  their  pay.  They 
weighed  our  baggage,  when  they  learned  us  a lesson, 
that  made  us  all  resolve  to  travel  with  less  in  future. 


44 


CITY  OF  ANTWERP. 


This  railroad  passes  through  Bruges,  by  Ghent ; and 
is  conducted  with  all  the  regularity  of  the  English 
roads,  although  at  less  speed.  You  pass  along  the 
banks  of  the  Ostend  and  Bruges  Canal,  through  a 
very  flat  country,  in  a high  state  of  cultivation,  and 
full  of  evidences  of  the  industry  and  neatness  of  the 
Flemish.  At  Malines  or  Mechlin,  famous  for  its  lace, 
the  road  branches  off  to  Antwerp,  at  which  town  we 
arrived  about  ten  o’clock  at  night  outside  the  walls. 
We  had  no  sooner  entered  the  gates,  than  our  vehicle 
was  stopped ; and  an  official,  surveying  us  by  the  light 
of  his  lantern,  asked  us,  “ Messieurs,  avez  vous  quelque 
chose  a declarer  ?”  when  finding  we  had  not,  he  let  us 
pass  unmolested  into  the  city  to  the  “ Hotel  du  Parc,” 
kept  by  M.  Lapre. 

A few  scattered  galleons  on  the  Scheldt,  were  but 
a poor  representation  of  its  former  commercial  impor- 
tance, in  the  sixteenth  century,  when  Antwerp  had 
200,000  inhabitants.  On  the  opposite  shore  of  the 
river  is  the  famous  “ tete  de  Flandre.”  Many  of  its 
houses  show  the  presence  of  its  ancient  lords,  the 
Spaniards ; and  its  fine  quays  are  among  the  traces  of 
Napoleon’s  greatness.  The  fortifications,  which  once 
encircled  the  city,  have  been  partially  destroyed ; al- 
though they  still  bear  the  marks  of  the  gallant  defence 
of  Lasses,  whose  bravery  and  chivalry  enlisted  the 
noble  sympathies  of  his  conqueror  Gerhard. 


CATHEDRAL MUSEUM. 


45 


The  Cathedral  of  our  Lady  is  one  of  the  noblest 
constructions  in  northern  Europe,  and  its  tower  is 
remarkable  for  its  easy  grace.  It  is  so  surrounded  by 
low  and  crazy  tenements,  that  much  of  the  effect  of  its 
beautiful  portal  is  obscured.  Its  interior  is  simply 
ornate,  and  needs  the  picturesque  costumes  of  worship- 
pers at  high  mass,  to  fill  up  the  nakedness  of  its  lofty 
walls.  Rubens'  Descent  from  the  Cross  is  the  main 
ornament  of  the  church,  its  chef  d’ouvre.  Its  cele- 
brated pulpit,  “ The  Seat  of  Truth,"  is  an  admirable 
specimen  of  that  art  of  sculpture  in  wood,  which  has 
been  brought  to  perfection  by  the  native  artists  of 
Antwerp,  whose  chief  was  Quentire  Matys. 

The  Museum,  which  has  a numerous  collection  of 
the  Flemish  school,  and  abounds  with  Vandykes  and 
Rubens,  is  of  much  value  from  its  use  by  the  School 
of  Design  attached : a large  portion  of  its  walls  are 
hung  with  paintings  of  the  earlier  periods,  which  are 
historical  of  the  progress  of  art  in  this  country.  As 
Rubens  is  the  sole  pride  of  Antwerp,  his  works  abound 
in  all  its  churches ; and,  in  Rubens-street,  his  family 
residence  still  remains. 

The  most  beautiful  in  its  interior,  and  richest  in  art, 
is  the  church  of  Saint  Jacques;  whilst  there  are  few  in 
Europe,  which  possess  such  costly  objects  and  splendid 
monuments.  Here  is  the  celebrated  “ Chapeau  de 
Faille,"  a painting  in  which  Rubens’  family  is  intro 


46 


CHURCHES LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


duced,  and  beyond  it  his  unfinished  monument.  The 
marble  carvings  in  this  church  are  extremely  elab- 
orate ; and  the  Altar  of  the  Holy  Sacrament  is  of  rare 
beauty  in  the  design  of  the  marble  balustrade,  sculp- 
tured in  graceful  combinations  of  the  vine  and  grape, 
entwining  some  exquisitely  finished  cherubs. 

Saint  Barromeo,  which  was  built  chiefly  at  Ru- 
bens7 expense,  has  many  rich  and  finished  designs  in 
wood ; and  is  especially  worthy  of  notice  for  the 
panels  of  the  gallery,  which  are  carved  wfith  scenes 
from  the  life  of  our  Saviour. 

Saint  Paul’s  has  a curiously  wrought  Calvary 
attached  to  the  church.  Its  interior  has  little  remark- 
able after  a look  into  the  other  churches : whilst  view- 
ing its  paintings  we  watched  an  exposition  of  relics, 
and  were  favored  by  a sight  of  the  Apostle's  jaw-bone, 
which  was  held  out  for  the  adoration  and  kisses  of  the 
devout,  at  the  moderate  tax  of  a centime.  One  is 
struck  at  the  frequency  of  the  shrines  which  are  hung 
at  the  corners  of  the  streets.  You  meet  many  pictu- 
resque groups  of  people  scattered  about  the  market- 
places and  the  cafes.  The  complexion  of  the  women 
is  fair,  and  of  a softer  hue  and  expression  than  is 
generally  observed  among  the  Dutch.  Their  out-door 
habits  fit  them  peculiarly  for  the  study  of  the  artists  ; 
and  it  requires  little  effort  to  make  them  happy  and  fit 


GENERAL  VIEW 


47 


subjects  for  the  sketch-book,  who  are  naturally  so 
adaptive  and  easy  in  the  walks  of  their  daily  life. 

Outside  the  walls  are  the  Gardens  of  the  Musical 
Society,  whither  the  inhabitants  resort  for  their  after- 
noon stroll.  A fine  band  of  music  was  discoursing 
popular  overtures  and  waltzes  under  the  porches  of  the 
Pavilion,  whilst  many  groups  were  scattered  over  the 
grounds,  engaged  at  coffee  and  the  enlivening  dance. 

A visit  to  the  dance-house  in  the  city  will  well 
repay  the  lover  of  those  merry  interiors,  in  which  Te- 
niers is  so  happy,  and  of  which  Flanders  alone  fur- 
nishes the  originals. 

On  the  whole,  no  one  fails  to  be  pleased  wfith  Ant- 
werp : a city  which  unites  all  the  peculiarities  and 
raciness  of  Flemish  life.  That  striking  impression 
which  takes  possession  of  your  senses,  is  not  one  of 
mere  novelty.  The  noble  simplicity  of  the  Dome,  the 
magnificence  of  its  temples,  the  charming  naivete  of 
boorish  nature,  the  picturesque  groupings  of  its  people, 
the  quaint  character  of  its  edifices  and  perfection  of  its 
school  of  art,  unite  to  form  a new  and  harmonizing 
whole,  and  stamp  their  images  in  such  pleasing  combi- 
nations on  the  memory,  that  one  recurs  to  that  first 
vision,  even  amid  the  brighter  skies  and  more  brilliant 
display  of  art  in  sunny  Italy. 

With  regret,  therefore,  the  stranger  quits  Flanders ; 
for  there  is  satisfaction  in  the  study  of  a people,  whose 


48 


GENERAL  VIEW. 


characteristic  features  are  those  of  industry  and  con- 
tentment. I saw  no  beggars  in  Antwerp,  save  the 
priests,  and  a few  superannuated  cripples  who  sat  at 
the  “ beautiful  gate  of  the  temple/’ 

You  return  to  Mechlin  to  get  a view  of  its  pretty 
cathedral,  and  proceed  on  the  direct  road  to  Brussels. 
The  aspect  of  the  country  was  less  pleasing  than  that 
observed  around  Antwerp ; still  there  was  the  same 
prospect  of  neatness  and  industry. 


BELGIUM. 


BRUSSELS. 

Belgium’s  royal  seat  has  a little  too  much  similarity 
to  Paris  to  claim  any  individual  existence.  In  its  event- 
ful history,  it  has  survived  the  terrors  of  famine,  pesti- 
lence, siege,  and  a revolution  which  severed  it  from  the 
Netherlands. 

It  has  subsided  into  a population  of  about  120,000, 
and  become  a lounging  place  for  the  English,  who  seem 
to  favor  it  from  its  neighborhood  to  Blucher  and  Wa- 
terloo. 

We  took  a coach,  the  morning  after  our  arrival, 
and  rode  out  to  Waterloo,  by  the  Boulevards  de  Na- 
murs,  and  were  soon  rattling  over  the  highway  con- 
structed by  Napoleon.  We  hurried  by  the  Forest  of 
Soignes,  on  to  the  site  of  Mount  St.  Jean,  until  we 
reached  the  famous  cockpit  of  Europe. 

Sergeant  Cotton  is  a right  proper  person  to  show 
you  the  ground ; and,  as  a living  eye-witness,  grows 


50 


WATERLOO. 


eloquent  while  discoursing  of  the  Duke.  He  knoweth 
well  the  positions  and  actions  of  the  different  armies  at 
various  turns  of  the  bloody  day  ; and  he  will  take  you 
the  197  steps  up,  panting  and  blowing,  to  picture  the 
deployment  of  the  Allies  and  the  French,  on  that  field 
spread  out  as  a chart  beneath,  and  stretching  over  the 
undulatory  and  broken  champaign,  from  the  farm  of 
Hugomont,  Belle  Alliance,  and  that  hill  behind  which 
Blucher  hove  in  sight  to  change  the  sinking  fortunes  of 
the  day.  Your  very  hair  stands  up  at  ends,  at  his  bloody 
story  of  that  battle  ; and  your  tender  soul  would  sicken 
on  your  ride  homewards,  but  for  the  ludicrous  grimaces 
and  rapid  somersets  of  those  little  begging,  velocipede 
imps,  who  beset  your  carriage,  and  force  you  to  laugh 
outright,  in  spite  of  your  sense  of  outraged  decency,  as 
you  moralize  on  this  unseemly  display  of  legs  on  high- 
ways, and  give  your  stivers  for  the  support  of  a nation- 
al establishment  of  paupers  on  the  public  roads. 

We  lodged  at  the  Hotel  de  France,  in  town; 
whence  our  windows  overlooked  the  park  and  the 
palace  beyond.  In  our  morning  walk  we  visited  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies  near  by,  and  found  the  members 
very  comfortably  housed,  with  excellent  accommoda- 
tions for  their  committee  and  reading  rooms.  In  an 
upper  chamber  we  found  an  excellent  painting  of  the 
battle  of  Waterloo. 

We  saw  nothing  peculiar  in  the  Cathedral  of  St. 


LACE  MANUFACTORY HOTEL  DE  VILLE. 


51 


Gudule,  but  some  beautifully  stained  glass,  and  its  fine 
pulpit,  representing  the  “ Expulsion  of  our  First  Pa- 
rents from  Paradise/’  You  can  spend  a pleasant  hour 
in  visiting  the  lace  factories,  where  you  will  see  a 
number  of  homely  women  working  this  fabric,  in  all 
its  stages,  from  the  thread  to  the  flower.  Had  they 
been  any  thing  other  than  Dutch,  I might  have  raised 
some  poetry  or  sympathy  on  the  spinning  out  of  their 
thread  of  life  into  the  patterns  before  them  ; but  as  it 
was,  I found  the  lace  inferior  to  that  of  Antwerp,  and 
learnt  that  they  made  a point  in  Mechlin  which  was 
well  understood  at  Brussels. 

A terrible  shower  falling  at  the  moment,  called  our 
attention  to  the  want  of  side-walks  in  town  ; but  that 
defect  was  compensated  by  the  breadth  of  the  over- 
hanging eaves,  as  we  picked  our  way  through  the  mid- 
dle of  the  gutters,  to  the  picturesque  stands  of  the  mar- 
ket women,  in  the  “ Place  ” before  the  “ Stadthaus.” 
One  has  a melancholy  feeling  for  the  poor  architect 
of  this  Hotel  de  Ville,  a rare  and  quaint  old  building  of 
the  Spanish  style  ; for  the  luckless  wight  hung  himself, 
when,  in  the  height  of  exultation  over  his  work,  he 
was  informed  that  the  spire  was  not  placed  exactly  in 
the  middle  of  the  edifice.  Doubtless  he  fell  a victim  to 
his  over-scrupulous  observance  of  the  “ unities.” 

Its  fine  old  hall,  in  which  Charles  the  Fifth  abdi- 
cated in  favor  of  Philip,  has  been  converted  into  a 
3 


52 


MANNIKIN-PIS. 


registry  for  marriages.  Some  curious  old  tapestries 
hang  on  its  walls,  commemorative  of  the  life  of  Clovis 
and  Clotilda.  As  you  look  out  upon  the  square,  you 
mark  the  scaffold  on  which  Counts  Horn  and  Egmont 
were  beheaded,  whilst  cruel  Alba  surveyed  the  atrocity 
from  his  window  opposite.  Crossing  over  to  the  Court 
of  Cassation,  we  looked  in  to  see  two  modern  paint- 
ings of  great  merit,  representing  “ The  Abdication  of 
Charles  the  Fifth,”  and  “ The  Convention  of  Nobles 
protesting  the  Acts  of  Duke  Alba/' 

Thence  we  walked  to  pay  our  tribute  of  respect  to 
the  Mannikin-Pis,  presiding  divinity  of  Brussels.  This 
curious  little  figure  stands  on  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de 
l’Etuve  and  the  Rue  du  Chene.  The  story  goes,  that 
a certain  Godfrey,  son  of  a Count  of  Brabant,  was  lost 
one  day,  much  to  the  grief  of  his  royal  parent ; and, 
after  great  hue  and  cry  had  been  raised,  and  much  ado, 
was  found  in  a peculiar  position  in  this  corner.  The 
Brusselites  call  him  their  oldest  Burgher,  look  upon 
him  as  a sort  of  Palladium,  and  dread,  should  any  ill 
luck  happen  him,  some  evil  might  befall  their  city.  A 
fountain  was  hit  upon,  to  commemorate  his  memory 
whose  life  was  deemed  a public  blessing,  and  that  purl- 
ing, tiny  stream,  issuing  from  below,  yields  a twin  sug- 
gestion of  a dilemma  and  discovery.  Such  is  the  Man- 
nikin which  kings  have  honored  and  emperors  have 
crowned ; a curious  instance  among  many  of  the  su- 


MALIBRAN LAACHEN. 


53 


perstitious  crotchets  of  a people,  ever  enslaved  to  an 
unnatural  connection  of  their  own  happiness  with  some 
mystical  influence,  and  a link  in  that  chain  of  juggling 
legerdemain,  by  which  royalty  manages  to  delude  its 
subjects  into  a forgetfulness  of  their  liberties. 

One  is  shocked,  in  Brussels,  with  their  peculiar  mode 
of  trimming  trees  in  the  shapes  of  globes,  pyramids, 
and  rhomboids ; a perversion  of  the  true  intent  of  na- 
ture, much  akin  to  that  fashion  which  once  affected 
the  form  of  English  poetry,  when  verses  were  written 
with  a greater  regard  to  the  shape  than  to  the  sense  or 
metre.  The  absence  of  this  fashion  renders  the  Allee 
Vert6  one  of  the  most  delightful  walks  in  the  city. 

In  walking  through  the  city,  you  do  not  fail  to  ob- 
serve that  every  house  is  hung  with  a pair  of  reflectors, 
so  disposed  that  all  that  passes  in  the  streets  is  observed 
without  the  trouble  of  looking  out. 

A ride  to  Laachen  is  one  of  the  few  and  pleasant 
excursions  out  of  town — where  one  is  more  attracted 
by  the  reputation  of  Malibran,  whose  monument  so  ap- 
propriately suits  the  merits  of  that  charming  songstress, 
than  by  a sight  of  the  king’s  summer  palace. 

Brussels,  on  the  whole,  has  little  to  attract,  because 
there  is  so  little  of  nationality  or  of  character  peculiar 
to  herself,  and  one  is  too  much  impressed  with  an  idea 
of  the  neighborhood  of  Paris  to  dwell  long  on  the  man- 
ners or  customs  of  its  inhabitants. 


54 


MONS aUIVERAINE. 


The  next  morning  after  our  visit  to  Laachen,  we 
took  the  cars  for  Paris,  having  secured  a saloon  car  for 
the  party.  Speed  in  travel  is  economy  of  one’s  plea- 
sures, and  permits  you  to  hurry  over  that  uninteresting 
ground  which  lies  on  the  frontiers  of  France.  In  fact 
there  is  little  to  strike  attention  on  this  route,  save  the 
curious  and  fortified  town  of  Mons.  We  were  ex- 
empted from  the  usual  frontier  investigation,  at  Qui- 
veraine,  by  the  edict  of  the  fifteenth  of  the  present 
month.  Beyond  this,  the  appearance  of  the  country  is 
flat,  and  of  a boggy  soil.  For  the  last  sixty  miles  the 
land  is  better  cultivated;  and,  as  you  approach  the 
city,  you  remark  that  usual  abundance  and  richness  of 
cultivation  which  notifies  you  of  the  presence  of  a 
capital. 


The  Mannikin. 


FRANCE. 


PARIS. 

You  enter  Paris  under  those  recently  erected  forti- 
fications designed  by  Louis  Philippe  as  defences  against 
foreign  aggression,  but  actually  intended  to  keep  his 
own  rebellious  subjects  in  subjection.  How  plausible 
this  sophistry,  and  how  fallacious  his  plans,  subsequent 
events  have  proved. 

On  entering  Paris  from  the  north,  one  scarcely  fails 
to  be  disappointed.  Those  narrow  streets,  low  shop 
windows,  blouse-clad  ouvriers,  and  meagre  fiacres, 
which  flutter  by  your  carriage  as  you  are  driven  to  the 
hotel,  are  a pitiful  substitute  for  those  exalted  ideas 
of  Paris  which  can  only  be  filled  by  a long  residence, 
ripe  acquaintance  with  the  capital,  and  a domiciliation 
in  your  quiet  and  snug  little  lodgment  au  troisieme . 
Your  view  changes  when  you  become  somewhat  ha- 
bitue to  the  life  on  the  Boulevards,  discuss  “ La  Presse  ” 
at  your  cafe,  and  your  awkward  and  formal  parlance 


56 


VALET  DE  PLACE. 


wears  away,  from  your  ease  and  intercourse  among 
the  French. 

To  enjoy  the  French  capital,  one  must  frequent 
some  of  the  popular  cafes  on  the  Italiennes,  throw  off 
the  Anglais,  laugh  over  “ Charivari,”  attend  the  Gar- 
dens, visit  the  Spectacle , dance  the  cancan,  douceur 
some  member’s  lorette,  and  you  will  do  the  correct 
thing,  if  you  have  plenty  of  money. 

One  who  makes  a short  visit  only  should  employ  a 
valet-de-place ; and  a proper  one  was  Rodolph,  who 
was  with  us  in  ourTounds  about  Paris  : he  is  up  to  all 
the  “passant”  of  the  day,  and  will  make  your  little 
purchases,  charge  only  a round  commission,  buy  every 
thing  “ en  conjiance  after  which  you  will  be  satisfied 
with  his  politeness,  and  return  home  amused  to  find 
yourself  moderately  cheated,  while  you  esteem  him 
only  a little  less  rogue  than  valet.  Doubtless  a traveller 
led  round  by  a “ commissionaire  ” becomes  a mere  au- 
tomaton, and  sight-seeing  one  of  the  greatest  bores 
that  ever  tired  the  intellect  of  a stranger,  whilst  it  wo- 
fully  disturbs  the  dreams  of  one  who  has  hitherto  sup- 
posed himself  a mere  man  of  leisure.  But  some  things 
must  be  done  for  the  pleasure  of  the  action  undergone ; 
and  the  quicker  done,  the  more  room  for  solid  and  ma- 
ture reflection. 

We  began  with  the  Bourse,  or  the  Exchange  : the 
exterior  is  imposing,  and  the  interior  is  opened  to  the 


SIGHTS  AND  ROUNDS. 


57 


daily  concourse  of  brokers  and  stockjobbers.  A novel 
scene  presents  itself  to  those  who  look  down  from  the 
gallery,  whilst  one  doubts,  until  instructed,  whether  he 
is  present  at  a bear-baiting  or  a universal  auction ; 
such  is  the  din,  clatter,  hurry,  and  animation  of  these 
excitable  Frenchmen. 

The  history  of  Paris  is  that  of  France,  and  a walk 
through  her  streets,  recalls  some  of  the  most  stirring 
incidents  of  her  revolutions.  We  passed  from  the 
Exchange,  to  view  the  recently  erected  statue  of  Louis 
the  Fourteenth,  replacing  that  destroyed  in  the  last 
“ &meute ;”  then  crossed  the  market-place,  threading  our 
way  through  the  crazy  irregularities  of  ancient  houses, 
to  the  spot  where  Henry  Quatre  fell,  under  the  knife 
of  Ravaillac ; we  came  out  by  the  “ Place  des  Cha- 
teuets,”  with  its  column  erected  to  the  victims  of  July, 
near  which,  a fountain  pours  forth  refreshing  waters 
over  the  monuments  of  the  innocents,  massacred  on 
St.  Bartholomew’s  Eve. 

Then  over  to  the  “ Isle  of  France,”  where  fresh 
flowers  display  their  charms,  and  smile  in  the  market- 
place, under  the  frowning  walls  of  the  Conci^rgerie, 
seeming  like  garlands  strewn  over  the  graves  of 
the  guillotined;  and  mournfully,  opposite  stands  the 
“ Morgue,”  gloomy  mansion  of  the  drowned.  What 
a sad  evidence  of  human  depravity  is  found  in  the 
fact,  that  men  are  sometimes  pushed  into  the  Seine, 


58 


LOUVRE ST.  CLOUD. 


that  the  paltry  pittance  of  ten  francs  for  a recovery 
may  be  gained. 

To  change  the  scene,  one  should  visit  the  Goblins, 
mount  the  Barriere  de  TEtoile,  see  the  Hippodrome, 
laugh  at  Franconi,  and  play  with  the  little  children 
frolicking  with  their  nice  tidy  bonnes , in  the  Allees  of 
the  Tuilleries. 

The  collections  at  the  Louvre  are  a never  failing 
resource  of  a rainy  day,  of  which  there  is  no  lack  in 
Paris.  But  if  the  sun  is  out  and  the  air  bright,  take 
a Sunday  for  St.  Cloud,  or  Versailles,  a day  when  all 
the  town  is  there  a merry-making,  and  the  “grands 
eaux  ” are  played.  These  are  rare  occasions  to  observe 
the  manners  and  customs  of  the  people. 

It  happened  a fete,  when  we  visited  St.  Cloud,  and 
the  grounds  were  filled  with  animated  and  happy 
people,  waiting,  and  eager  to  see  the  display  of  the 
fountains,  which  were  to  be  let  off  at  five  o’clock. 
In  the  meantime,  walk  about  among  the  temporary 
booths,  erected  on  the  green  lawn,  and  by  the  foot- 
paths, and  look  in,  and  see  the  devices  for  gaining  a 
sous  from  a passer.  Here,  you  may  shoot  at  a swing- 
ing little  jackanapes,  who  turns  furious  somersets  when 
you  hit  him  ; there  again,  you  may  be  weighed  ; and 
near  by,*  look  at  those  theatrical  women  in  shorts, 
tumbling,  in  ground  and  lofty,  whilst  they  announce 
to  you ; “ viola  ! le  chat , le  double  chat , le  grand  souris 


NOTRE  DAME THE  INVALIDES. 


59 


V elephant and  all  this,  for  two  sous ; then  laugh  with 
these  simple  people,  and  observe  how  easily  they  are 
pleased  ; the  great  secret  of  their  amusement,  which 
demands  little  effort  and  less  outlay.  Gayety  is  the 
dominant  instinct  of  the  mass,  and  the  pursuit  of 
pleasure  engrosses  all  classes,  peasant,  sans-culotte, 
fop,  and  sovereign.  Saunderson,  in  his  “ American 
in  Paris/’  gives  their  picture  to  the  very  life  ; truly, 
says  he,  “ who  can  describe  a people  who  call  their 
mothers,  mares , and  horses,  shovels  ?” 

One  cannot  stay  long  away  from  a sight  of  Notre 
Dame  ; so  grand  in  its  own  architectural  proportions 
and  its  associations  with  the  greatness  of  the  Emperor. 
Here  was  the  scene  of  his  coronation ; on  which 
occasion  he  presented  those  magnificent  robes  and 
vessels,  which  are  shown  you  in  the  sacristy,  and  have 
survived  the  ravages  of  the  Revolutionists.  In  fact, 
most  of  the  noted  spots  of  the  cijty  are  associated  with 
the  history  of  its  many  revolutions,  or  the  life  of  Na- 
poleon, as  witness  the  July  column  ; that  of  the  Place 
Venddme,  the  most  imposing  in  Europe  ; the  expia- 
tory chapel  over  the  bodies  of  Maria  Antoinette,  and 
Louis,  and  their  faithful  Swiss  ; the  Invalides  and  the 
Magdalene.  Next  to  Notre  Dame,  and  a model  Insti- 
tution, is  that  of  the  Hospital  of  the  Hotel  Dieu.  As 
you  walk  through  its  various  departments,  you  are 
struck  with  the  perfect  order  and  regularity  which 


60 


HOTEL  D1EU THE  PANTHEON. 


prevails  in  every  department,  from  the  pharmacy  to 
the  kitchen.  From  the  hospital  to  the  church,  there 
seemed  a natural  connection  with  the  cemetery  of 
“Pere  la  Chaise.”  I must  confess,  I was  disappointed 
with  its  aspect ; and  despite  the  memory  of  great 
names,  wdiich  meet  you  among  its  many  monuments, 
there  seemed  too  much  levity  in  the  garb  of  these  tomb- 
stones, as  if  the  very  dead  were  tinged  with  nation- 
ality.  Those  wreaths  of  perpetuals,  which  deck  the 
monuments,  are  fresh  tokens  of  friendship,  and  evidence 
touchingly  those  attentions  which  affection  nourished  ; 
and  they  yield  the  only  striking  sentiment  which  that 
sepulchre  calls  forth. 

From  death  to  immortality,  one  passes  from  “ la 
Chaise”  to  the  Pantheon,  for  relief  and  comfort ; that 
sublime  temple  of  Immortality,  whose  every  aspect 
and  proportion  is  grand,  and  presence  lofty.  You 
need  not  those  signal  letters,  “ aux  grandshommes  de 
la  patrie  reconnaissante”  over  the  portal,  to  remind 
you  of  its  object.  You  feel  it  is  a mausoleum.  Its  inte- 
rior is  no  less  grand ; and  as  you  stand  beneath  the 
dome  and  look  up  to  view’  the  frescoes,  high  aloft,  the 
spirit  soars  into  the  intent  of  its  depictions,  and  elevation 
of  thought  bears  you  to  those  Elysian  fields  ; and  when 
you  mount  the  top  and  watch  the  capital  at  your  feet, 
that  vast  city  stretched  out  and  around,  your  whole 
soul  becomes  catholic,  and  you  catch  a ken  universal. 


HOTEL  DE  CLUNY. 


61 


In  that  same  quarter  of  the  Cite  is  the  H6tel  de 
Cluny,  a curious  hospital  of  old  furniture  and  meubles, 
gathered  from  the  earliest  periods  of  French  civiliza- 
tion. No  true  lover  of  the  antique  will  fail  to  be 
amused  at  some  of  those  social  implements  and  bijoux, 
which  quietly  tell  out  the  history  of  their  times. 

In  the  interior  upper  rooms,  many  relics  of  the  age 
of  the  Renaissance  and  the  middle  ages  are  spread 
forth,  with  models  of  old  cabinets,  porcelain,  Sevres 
ware,  and  tapestry  in  its  early  art.  The  collection  is 
well  preserved,  and  presents  a pleasant  study  of  the 
domestic  life  of  early  France,  whilst  not  one  relic  only, 
but  several,  hint  at  the  menage  of  the  gallants  of  Louis 
the  Fourteenth’s  Court.  Adjoining  this  curious  old 
building,  which  is  still  retained  in  its  primitive  style 
and  order,  are  the  remains  of  some  Roman  Thermae. 

Few,  who  are  given  to  sight-seeing,  fail  to  rest  the 
day  with  a dinner ; which  leads  one  to  speak  of  the 
restaurants.  Epicures  grieve  for  those  days,  when 
princes  drove  to  the  “ Rocher  des  Cancales.”  Phillipe, 
in  our  experience,  has  supplied  its  fall,  and  equals  the 
more  noted  and  dearer  of  the  Boulevards,  or  the 
Palais  Royal.  Besides,  one  does  not  wish  to  be  bored 
by  English,  but  seeks  the  resort  of  quiet,  full-fed 
citizens,  who  have  made  the  reputation  of  this  volup- 
tuous resort  in  the  Rue  Mont-Martre,  near  the  passage 
Saumon. 


62 


RESTAURANT CAFES. 


We  quote,  only,  the  rich  tastes  of  his  “Sole  ala 
Normande"  and  his  “ Soupe  a la  Bisque/'  No  restau- 
rant life  would  suit  that  man  who  counts  his  mouth- 
fuls as  he  eats,  and  sighs  as  if  each  forkful  ripped  up 
the  lining  of  his  pocket.  We  would  recommend  the 
“ Europe"  to  him,  where  he  can  get  dog  steaks  and 
horse  chops  for  twenty  sous.  A glorious  appetite  might 
ruin  such  a youth,  and  make  his  very  stomach  spend- 
thrift. 

He  is  cross-grained  by  instinct,  who  cannot  be 
pleased  in  his  daily  walks  in  Paris.  Your  sobriety 
must  be  checked  here,  rather  than  your  vices,  where, 
with  a share  of  good-nature  and  humor  about  you,  you 
fall  into  excellent  keeping  with  those  thousand  petits 
riens  and  absurdities,  which  hourly  amuse  you.  Our 
daily  habit  was  to  hire  a chair  before  the  Cafe  of  the 
Trois  Freres,  where  we  picked  up  many  little  frag- 
ments of  joy,  and  used  to  laugh  at  the  coquetry  of  the 
garden,  and  at  the  roar  of  our  waiter,  whose  “ bon"  for 
coffee  made  the  reputation  of  that  little  glazed  shop 
which  protrudes  into  the  court  before  the  fountain. 
The  correct  thing  is  to  take  your  cigar  at  another  caf6, 
or  sip  your  mocha  on  the  “ Italiennes,"  whilst  some  one 
of  your  acquaintances  is  passing  along,  and  you  won- 
der “ who  is  that  pretty  woman  on  his  arm  :"  you  may 
be  sure  she  is  only  his  cousin.  Or  for  novelty,  you  may 
stroll  to  the  quarter  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Martin,  and 


Dinner  at  the  Caf6  Empoisoneur. 


■ -<  % 

' 

' 

SAINT  DENIS. 


63 


watch  the  ouvriers  with  their  grisettes  tripping  along 
so  light,  with  their  frilled  caps  fluttering  in  the  wind. 
There  are  no  grisettes  at  the  Court  End,  for  they  be- 
come converted  into  lorettes  when  they  pass  the 
chapel  where  they  worship. 

A pleasant  excursion  was  that  to  Saint  Denis,  to 
view  the  old  church  so  desecrated  by  the  Revolution- 
ists in  their  destruction  of  the  Royal  Tombs.  The 
monuments  under  the  crypt  are  of  an  elegant  and 
costly  construction.  That  urn  which  contains  the 
ashes  of  Francis  the  First,  is  the  chastest  specimen  of 
art  in  bas-relief  extant ; its  design  is  a representation 
of  the  renaissance  of  art,  to  which  this  monarch  chiefly 
contributed,  and,  from  the  beauty  of  its  execution,  has 
been  attributed  to  some  of  the  early  artists,  even  to  Da 
"Vinci. 

The  hot  days  of  July  made  a longer  sojourn  in  Paris 
uncomfortable.  The  next  morning  we  packed  up,  and 
having  booked  our  names  for  Fontainebleau,  took  our 
seats  in  the  omnibus,  at  22  Rue  de  Boulox,  and  set  off 
for  the  station  of  the  Orleans  railroad,  on  the  way  to 
our  destination.  We  passed  along  the  banks  of  the 
Seine,  through  many  pretty  villages,  until  we  stopped 
at  Corbeille,  where  we  had  our  first  trial  of  that  lum- 
bering vehicle,  miscalled  a diligence.  A moderately 
high  ladder  introduces  you  into  the  banquette,  but  your 
better  view  of  the  country  repays  your  fatigue  in 


64 


PALACE  OP  FONTAINEBLEAU. 


clambering  there.  Our  companion  was  an  intelligent 
gentleman,  attached  to  one  of  the  Bureaus  in  Paris,  and 
at  his  suggestion,  we  put  up  at  the  Hotel  de  Paris  in 
Fontainebleau.  We  had  no  sooner  entered  its  court, 
than  our  attention  was  drawn  to  a graceful  nymph  or- 
namenting the  niche  of  its  portal,  a happy  omen  of  the 
good  keeping  within,  and  of  the  taste  of  its  host,  who 
did  his  best  to  make  us  at  our  ease. 

After  breakfast  we  visited  the  royal  palace  and  gar- 
dens, and  were  much  pleased  with  the  ensemble  of  the 
parterres,  gardens,  and  parks.  Fontainebleau  was  the 
favorite  resort  of  Bonaparte.  We  were  also  much  in- 
terested in  the  secretary,  on  which  a copy  of  his  abdi- 
cation was  displayed,  and  all  that  part  of  the  palace 
which  he  inhabited.  The  great  stairway  on  the  court 
is  that  from  which  he  parted  so  touchingly  with  his  of- 
ficers. 

The  forest  of  Fontainebleau  is  first  in  attraction 
after  the  palace.  We  were  carried  thither  in  a sort  of 
covered  cart,  to  visit  its  most  noted  points  and  sights, 
which  are  variously  designated  as  Mount  Calvary,  the 
Fountain,  &c.,  &c.  From  many  of  these  elevated 
landmarks  you  catch  a view  of  the  village  lying  far  off 
in  the  distant  landscape  below.  At  the  Fount  of  St. 
Sauveur  we  met  an  old  hag , who  seemed  the  presiding 
genius  of  the  grove,  ready  to  deal  out  lemonade  and 
diluted  eau-de-vie.  Her  whole  life  was  centered  in 


FOREST  AND  ENVIRONS. 


65 


this  solitude.  , That  little  well,  springing  up  under  the 
rocks  of  the  woodland,  afforded  her  support ; whilst 
her  little  all,  besides  a few  dirty  tumblers  and  a bottle, 
was  a miserably  sad  donkey  tied  to  a tree  beyond  her, 
the  very  picture  of  patience  and  resignation. 

Leaving  the  old  crone  to  her  vocations,  we  passed 
on  to  view  the  more  prominent  points  in  the  region  of 
these  forests,  once  famed  for  the  bold  robberies  com- 
mitted, and  then  took  a return  route  to  the  village 
by  the  way  of  some  of  the  largest  trees  which  exist  in 
France. 

After  dinner  we  paid  a visit  to  M.  Billet  de  Creury, 
our  companion  in  the  diligence,  and  were  regaled  with 
a sight  of  a very  valuable  collection  of  paintings  and 
Sevres  which  we  had  accumulated  in  occasional  visits 
to  the  neighboring  provinces,  where,  by  a proper  use 
of  opportunities,  he  had  succeeded  in  rescuing  from 
oblivion  many  gems  of  art,  which  otherwise  would 
have  lain  neglected  in  the  garrets  and  lumber-rooms 
of  the  peasants  and  farmers.  During  the  troubled  days 
of  terror  and  revolution  many  of  the  choicest  works  of 
the  French  school  were  removed  from  the  capital  for 
preservation. 

It  was  midnight  before  we  resumed  our  seats  which 
had  been  secured  in  Paris,  and  we  were  snugly  lodged 
in  our  banquets  in  good  fellowship  with  our  conductor, 
as  jolly  and  rollicking  a gar<jon  as  ever  withdrew  from 


66 


DILIGENCE  TO  CHALONS. 


the  dissipation  of  the  capital  for  the  benefit  of  his 
morals  in  the  country.  There  are  few  of  these  con- 
ductors who  do  not  fail  to  interest  you  by  their  history. 
You  take  their  word  that  they  were  all  born  gentle- 
men and  courtiers ; and  he  is  a beggarly  wanderer 
who  grudges  him  his  proportion  of  cigars  and  eau-de- 
vie,  or  reserves  not  an  ecu  for  one  who  contributes  so 
much  to  his  comfort  and  information.  Right  saucy 
fellow  is  he : has  a word  for  all  the  girls  and  old  bonnes 
he  meets ; he  rides  his  circuit,  carrying  the  bag,  whilst 
he  tips  the  wink  to  the  postboy,  and  hurries  along 
the  leaders  as  you  are  wheeled  out  of  the  village 
into  that  long,  dark,  and  dreaded  forest  of  Fontaine- 
bleau. 

We  had  some  slight  dream  of  the  rattling  and 
clanking  chain  of  the  drawbridge,  as  we  fell  asleep 
outside  the  walls  of  Mosceau.  Next  morning  we 
found  ourselves  at  St.  Florentines,  with  a breakfast  on 
bad  claret  and  worse  bread ; but  we  consoled  our- 
selves in  the  racy  qualities  of  Jacque,  who  entertained 
us  with  his  young  days  in  Paris,  until  we  believed  that 
the  route  from  Paris  to  Lyons  was  the  best  conducted 
in  all  France.  Thus  we  rode  on  through  a delightful 
country,  full  of  the  vine  and  abundance,  and  glowing 
in  all  that  warmth  of  light  and  summer  which  fills  up 
one’s  vision  of  “ La  Belle  France,”  until  we  reached 
dinner  at  Semur,  a quaint  and  perfect  middle-aged  town 


SAIL  DOWN  THE  SOANE. 


67 


impending  the  wild  and  now  rapid  Seine ; and,  as  we 
watched  its  queer  old  turreted  prison,  we  thought  of 
those  days  when  Burgundy’s  castles  frowned  over  the 
land,  and  the  duke  ruled  with  “ wassail  and  bowl.” 
Another  night,  and  the  morning  broke  upon  us  at 
Ch&lons.  Here  we  took  a little  steamer  and  floated 
down  the  Soane,  picking  our  way  in  its  dull  and  shal- 
low waters.  We  were  surprised  to  find  so  much  in- 
teresting scenery,  and  now  and  then  the  ruin  of  some 
ancient  stronghold,  or  again,  on  some  sunny  bank,  a 
pretty  church,  with  its  sidelong  tower,  whence  sounded 
the  tocsin ; and  thus,  between  breakfast,  landscape,  and 
steam,  we  ran  until  Belle  Allemagne  showed  its  town 
before  we  dropped  quietly  down  and  moored  at  the 
quays  of  Lyons,  situated  at  the  junction  of  the  Rhone 
and  Soane.  We  lodged  at  the  Hdtel  du  Nord,  near 
the  City  Hall,  and  not  far  from  the  banks  of  the 
Rhone,  which  afforded  more  comforts  than  most  of 
French  inns. 

After  dinner,  whilst  walking  at  the  river’s  side, 
there  arose  a terrible  “ levant,”  with  the  fury  of  a tor- 
nado, which  blew  so  strongly  that  the  whole  atmo- 
sphere was  filled  with  dust,  and  caused  us  to  take 
shelter  until  this  hurricane  was  over ; after  which,  we 
paused  on  the  bridges  to  watch  the  course  of  the 
“ arrowy  Rhone,”  flowing  with  its  full  broad  stream 
between  the  two  divisions  of  the  city. 


68 


MANUFACTORIES  AND  PEOPLE. 


The  manufactories  are  the  boast  of  this  second  of 
French  cities.  Besides  these  there  are  few  objects 
worthy  of  notice,  except  an  excellent  collection  of 
Roman  relics  in  the  museum.  Of  the  many  pictures  in 
the  gallery  of  ancient  and  modern  paintings,  but  few 
are  good.  The  operatives  in  those  rooms  where  vel- 
vets and  brocades  are  worked  expect  a small  gratifica- 
tion for  your  visit,  but  one  must  be  sly  in  the  gift,  to 
prevent  your  valet  from  seizing  his  share. 

The  population  is  crowded  into  a very  small  space, 
owing  to  the  narrow  limits  of  the  town,  and  one  house 
was  pointed  out  in  which  were  fifteen  hundred  lodgers. 
The  inequalities  of  the  land  lend  a highly  picturesque 
effect  to  many  quarters  of  the  city,  whilst  not  the  least 
interesting,  is  that  stern  old  bluff  across  the  Soane, 
where  stood  ancient  Lugdunum  and  the  palace  of 
Commodus,  whence  he  could  overlook  this  once  Latin 
capital  on  afternoons,  after  dining  on  peacocks’  tongues 
and  Falernian. 


SWITZERLAND. 

The  road  to  Geneva  passes  along  the  banks  of  the 
Rhone  until  you  reach  Bellegarde,  where  it  is  lost  for 
awhile  beneath  a formation  of  rock.  At  Collonge,  are 
those  strong  fortifications  which  guard  the  French 
frontier,  where  you  cross  the  river  amidst  the  wildest 
and  most  beautiful  scenery  of  the  route.  Perpendicu- 
lar cliffs  overlook  the  path  ; and  as  you  enter  the  for- 
tress, there  is  only  room  for  one  carriage  to  pass  : 
thence  you  catch  the  last  sight  of  the  Rhone,  foaming 
and  dashing  over  its  rocky  bed  far  down  in  the  valley ; 
and  over  the  brow  of  the  mountain,  Switzerland  bursts 
upon  the  view.  What  a change  from  France  ! Yon- 
der plain  marks  the  labor  of  the  industrious  peasant, 
and  neat  farm-houses  dot  the  roadside,  where  groups 
of  happy  people  cheer  you  with  their  laugh.  Far  in 
the  distance  gleams  Lake  Leman,  holding  Geneva  at 
the  confluence  of  the  Rhone  and  Arve,  locked  in  the 
embrace  of  the  Savoy  and  the  Alps. 


70 


GENEVA. 


You  meet  crowds  of  intelligent  travellers  at  the 
“ Ecu  ” or  “ Bergere,”  at  this  central  point  of  divergence 
to  Italy,  the  Rhine,  or  the  Bernese  Oberland.  Here 
you  can  rest  awhile  to  digest  all  future  plans,  and  learn 
from  the  experience  of  others,  resting  from  the  fatigues 
of  the  season.  Just  opposite  your  windows  grow  those 
tall  poplars  on  Rousseau’s  island,  and  far  off  in  the 
south  rise  the  majestic  forms  of  the  greater  Alps. 

That  plain  old  church  which  stands  in  the  middle 
of  the  town,  marks  the  spot  in  which  Calvin  preached ; 
and  high  aloft  in  the  towers,  you  mount  to  command 
the  glories  of  all  the  Swiss,  a view  which  reaches  far 
down  the  lake,  and  gives  a panorama  of  the  distant 
mountains. 

We  took  the  “ Helvetie  ” which  plies  the  lake,  and 
sailed  down  to  Villeneuve,  where  the  boat  stops  long 
enough  to  allow  a visit  to  Chillon  Castle.  Go  in,  and 
see  the  bolt  to  which  the  prisoner  was  chained,  in  the 
immortal  verse  of  Byron;  and  as  you  return,  catch  a 
view  of  those  pretty  villages  which  mark  the  margin 
on  the  north.  A day  at  Ferney  will  repay  the  visit, 
if  but  for  the  anecdote  of  Gibbon’s  call.  He  and  Vol- 
taire were  enemies.  On  one  occasion,  Gibbon  left 
Lausanne  to  visit  Voltaire.  Having  been  refused  by 
the  latter,  he  very  calmly  seated  himself  in  a chamber, 
and  remained  three  days,  hoping  to  have  an  interview. 
The  poet  resisted,  and  still  Gibbon  persisted.  At 


ST.  MARTIN. 


71 


length,  as  Voltaire,  walking  as  usual  in  his  garden, 
perceived  that  he  was  observed  by  the  latter,  he  or- 
dered a servant  to  tell  Gibbon  “ that  he  had  heard  of 
certain  persons  who  had  taken  an  inn  for  a chateau, 
but  he  it  seemed  was  disposed  to  take  his  chateau  for 
a tavern.”  Nothing  daunted,  Gibbon  still  remained. 
Finally,  Voltaire  having  learned  that  Gibbon  had 
caught  a sight  of  him  by  accident,  sent  his  valet  again 
to  tell  him  “ that  as  he  had  seen  the  beast,  he  must  pay 
eight  sous  for  the  look.”  Gibbon  replied  : “ Here,  my 
man,  take  these  sixteen,  eight  for  the  one  view  I have 
had,  and  eight  more  for  the  sight  I expect  to  have  of 
him  again.”  The  poet,  pleased  with  his  sangfroid  and 
wit,  invited  him  to  dine  that  day,  and  ever  after  they 
remained  friends. 

At  evening,  the  fortifications  are  used  by  people  as 
promenades ; and  from  the  mole  stretching  out  into 
the  lake,  you  have  the  best  view  of  the  chain  of  Mont 
Blanc.  Here  one  lingers  to  catch  those  last  and  pleas- 
ing impressions  of  the  lake  and  mountain  scenes  which 
are  treasured  up  in  your  recollections  of  Geneva. 

Next  morning  we  took  our  carriage  and  started  at 
early  day  for  St.  Martin.  The  road  runs  most  of  the 
way  along  the  Arve,  rolling  its  dark  and  troubled 
water,  sprung  from  its  sources  at  Chamounix.  Its  val- 
ley is  highly  picturesque,  and  those  noble  mountains 
impending  its  banks  lend  a sublime  effect  to  its  scenery. 


72 


MONT  BLANC. 


The  Mole  now  becomes  visible,  and  frowns  across  the 
muddy  stream  at  the  opposite  heights  of  the  Brevent. 
At  Belleville,  the  view  of  these  mountain  spurs  crowd- 
ing the  channel  is  truly  magnificent ; your  admiration 
increases  as  you  cross  that  rich  plain  still  overshadowed 
by  the  Brevent;  and  when  you  enter  the  pass  at 
Cluses,  you  scarcely  know  where  to  escape  from  these 
high  barriers  which  almost  forbid  progress.  Thus  your 
journey  is  gradually  enhanced  in  grandeur  and  effect 
until  you  reach  the  climax,  which  is  your  first  view  of 
Mont  Blanc,  “ the  Monarch/’  glowing  with  its  masses 
of  snow,  so  brilliant  and  sublime  that  it  defies  all 
power  of  expression.  You  catch  the  best  feature  from 
the  bridge  which  crosses  to  Sellenache.  At  this  point 
the  path  becomes  so  rugged  and  narrow  that  one  must 
hire  a “ char  a banc.”  This  vehicle  of  the  country 
much  resembles  a cushioned  bath-tub  on  two  barrows 
crossed.  In  many  parts  of  the  road  we  were  obliged 
to  dismount  and  take  to  foot.  You  now  pass  into  the 
very  heart  of  these  rocky  fastnesses,  and  mountain 
piled  on  mountain  rise  majestically  around.  Whilst 
winding  over  the  circuitous  pathway  which  leads  you 
to  the  summit,  now  buried  among  rocks,  now  perched 
on  the  brink  of  precipices,  looking  fearfully  down  into 
those  mountain  streams  which  break  in  white  foam 
through  their  valleys,  and  dazzled  by  the  glare  of  eter- 
nal snow  above,  you  are  relieved  by  a temporary  re- 


Char  k banc  ride  over  the  Alps. 


- ■ 

,'C'  I 


' 

' 

'■ 


% . 

. 

' 


VALLEY  OF  CHAMOUNIX. 


73 


pose  at  Nervos.  Here  one  first  observes  those  un- 
seemly goitres  which  deform  the  human  face,  and  are 
so  unsightly  that  few  have  nerve  to  regard  them. 
Having  baited  our  animals,  we  continued  on  towards 
Chamounix.  The  landscape  differs  little  until  you 
reach  the  bridge  of  Pelassier,  where  it  increases  in 
wildness  and  grandeur,  and  which  crossed,  opened  to 
our  sight  one  of  the  most  fearful  defiles  of  the  moun- 
tain chain.  At  sunset  we  mounted  a rock  about  two 
miles  above  the  bridge,  whence  a gorgeous  scene  pre- 
sented itself.  One  coup-d’oeil  embraced  not  only  a 
panorama  of  the  seasons,  but  all  the  varieties  of  the 
earth’s  temperature.  Deep  down  in  the  ravine,  the 
rich  green  of  the  valley  glowed  like  emerald  against 
that  rocky  foreground ; the  lesser  Alps,  clad  in  their 
foliage  of  sombre  pine,  rose  around  till  vegetation  fled 
from  those  pointed  needles,  clustering  round  the  eternal 
snows  of  Mont  Blanc,  and  towering  with  their  pinna- 
cles of  glory  above  the  golden  clouds  breaking  about 
his  base.  The  whole  gorge,  bathed  in  richest  tones  of 
purple  light,  contrasted  with  those  mole-brown  sha- 
dows of  reflected  sunset,  whilst  emitted  flashes  of  the 
sinking  orb  gilded  the  neighboring  peaks  with  crowns 
of  light,  more  dazzling  than  the  whiteness  of  their 
fields  of  snow.  Shortly  after,  we  caught  a glimpse  of 
the  valley  of  Chamounix,  nestled  within  the  Savoy  and 
Alps ; and  here  at  the  very  foot  of  “ the  Monarch  ” we 


74 


MER  DE  GLACE. 


laid  down  our  fardels,  and  retired  within  the  shelter  of 
the  “ Royal/' 

The  next  morning  three  demure  donkeys  were 
ranged  before  us,  awaiting  to  be  mounted  by  our  party. 
We  were,  of  course,  pleased  to  learn  that  our  appointed 
guide  belonged  to  that  celebrated  family  of  muleteers 
who  had  been  noted  for  sliding  down  the  Glaciers  on 
an  avalanche,  so  that  we  had  no  apprehension  of  an 
ascent  up  the  gentler  declivities  of  Montavert.  We 
rode  up  the  valley  of  Chamounix  until  we  reached  the 
foot  of  the  mountain,  and  thence  commenced  our  slow 
and  painful  ascent  towards  the  Mer  de  Glace. 

Winding  round  the  hill  you  catch  glorious  views  of 
the  far-off  village  nestled  among  those  mountains  which 
inclose  the  valley,  until,  at  a sudden  angle  of  the  path, 
you  are  threatened  by  those  bristling  aiguilles  which 
guard  the  margin  of  the  “frozen  sea."  You  do  not 
appreciate  the  grandeur  of  that  upturned  ocean  of  ice 
until  you  descend  from  the  cottage,  to  walk  among  its 
crags  and  crevices,  and  look  down  into  those  fearful 
chasms  which  yawn  under  foot,  and  show  the  abyss 
profound.  We  did  not  visit  that  “emerald  green," 
where  nature  smiles  the  year  around,  amidst  those  re- 
gions of  eternal  snows  ; but  were  content  to  return  to 
the  chalet,  to  partake  of  savory  bread  and  cheese,  and 
crack  a joke  with  an  honest  family  of  Dutchmen,  too 
fat  to  descend  upon  the  Glacier,  and  too  practical  to 


PASS  OF  THE  FORECLAS. 


75 


view  it  by  other  means  than  a spy-glass.  We  started 
again  from  our  inn  at  Chamounix,  and  had  the  same 
guide  and  mules  on  our  passage  to  Martigny.  We  kept 
to  the  valley  along  the  waters  of  the  Trient,  leaving 
the  Glaciers  behind  us,  and  the  Col  de  Balme  to  our 
right,  until  we  struck  that  wild  and  picturesque  bridle- 
path leading  to  the  Pass  of  the  Foreclas.  The  road 
becomes  shadier,  and  the  pretty  little  fall  of  the  Eau 
Noire  relieves  the  eye  as  you  ride  among  the  dark  pines 
which  overhang  its  banks,  until  you  escape  into  the  de- 
file and  look  back  to  take  a sweeping  glance,  your  last, 
of  Chamounix,  the  Aiguilles,  and  the  Monarch.  Onward, 
and  the  path  becomes  wilder,  now  running  through 
tunnelled  rocks,  then  over  cataract  and  hill ; at  times 
you  are  perched  high  above  the  mountain  streams,  and 
the  sight  grows  dizzy  over  those  awful  precipices  which 
tremble  with  the  beating  torrent ; and  so,  on  to  the 
Tete  Noire,  as  your  poor  mule  picks  your  way  over  peb- 
ble and  flint,  until  you  gain  the  Foreclas  and  its  sum- 
mit, whence  that  fine  view  is  had  of  the  valley  of  the 
Rhone,  and  of  the  ribbon  course  of  the  Simplon,  stretch- 
ing its  length  over  the  plain  at  Martigny.  That  Fore- 
clas proved  a true  Pons  Asinorum ; and  the  man  who 
is  not  deterred  by  the  various  fortunes  of  the  road,  in 
form  of  tumble  and  kick,  hair-breadth  escape,  and  fa- 
mine, is  fit  to  travel  to  Dan,  and  need  not  stop  this  side 

of  Beersheba.  Tired  as  we  were  with  that  day’s  work, 

4 


76 


MARTIGNY. 


we  had  zest  enough  to  race  into  the  village  of  Martigny, 
whilst  we  urged  our  donkeys  at  full  speed,  with  stick 
and  stirrup,  eager  to  change  our  bemired  garments  at 
the  first  offers  of  an  inn.  Right  glad  were  we  to  reach 
the  “ Swan/’  and  no  less  so  our  poor  jaded  jacks,  who 
showed  their  joy  by  a scream  of  most  varied  brayings, 
which  shook  the  very  hills  of  the  valley  and  made  them 
resound  with  their  nasal  travestie  of  the  Alpine  horn. 
There  is  not  much  to  see  in  Martigny,  for  there  is  no- 
thing in  it  but  the  echo  and  ruin,  and  one  has  little 
else  to  do  at  the  inn  but  to  order  dinner,  and  study  out 
that  printed  carte  of  prices  which  hangs  on  the  doors 
of  all  Swiss  taverns,  and  tells  of  the  conspiracy  of  Swiss 
Bonifaces  in  combination  against  all  luckless  travellers. 

We  took  carriages  from  this  to  Saint  Maurice,  and 
hired  a guide,  one  Alois  Schmidig,  to  help  us  in  the 
pursuit  of  Swiss  pastimes.  A more  honest  rogue  is 
not  to  be  had  in  all  Switzerland,  and  the  fact  of  his  dis- 
charge on  the  score  of  honesty,  by  a young  Hollander, 
who  had  been  travelling  on  the  faith  of  his  note,  led  us 
to  hire  him  to  escape  aught  worse.  The  road  to  Saint 
Maurice  is  somewhat  intermittent  from  the  frequent 
inundations  of  the  Rhone,  which  give  it  the  aspect  of 
a lagoon.  Those  few  buckets-full  of  water  which  tum- 
ble over  the  side  of  the  mountain  give  to  the  Pissevache 
the  faint  image  of  a cascade.  A picturesque  hermit- 
age and  the  quaint  old  church  of  the  Augustine  convent 


VEVAY. 


77 


are  the  only  objects  which  meet  you  at  St.  Laurence, 
until  you  cross  the  bridge  which  separates  Canton  Yal- 
lais  and  Vaux,  “ where  a gate  divides  two  kingdoms.” 
This  is  one  of  the  grandest  points  of  the  road  out  to 
Yilleneuve.  A few  stray  peasants,  trundled  along  to 
church  in  an  ox-cart,  rather  surprised  by  the  abomin- 
able shapes  of  their  head-dresses,  than  afforded  pleasing 
observations  as  to  beauty  or  costume ; whilst  not  a few 
unseemly  goitres  appendant  to  their  throats,  rather  di- 
vert one’s  attention  from  whatever  of  pleasing  they 
might  be  supposed  to  have  of  personal  beauty  or  pic- 
turesque appearance.  But  Yallais  once  escaped,  there 
is  unceasing  beauty  in  nature  until  one  overleaps  the 
confines  of  Canton  Yaud,  when  you  find  yourself  once 
more  at  the  margin  of  Lake  Leman  at  Yilleneuve. 
One  happy  hour  passed  in  sight  of  Chillon,  and  you  are 
landed  at  Yevay.  In  a moment  more  you  are  ushered 
into  the  comforts  of  the  “ Trois  Freres,”  one  of  the 
best  inns  in  Switzerland,  built  on  the  bank  of  the  lake. 
The  charming  position  of  the  town,  its  delightful  cli- 
mate, those  many  pleasant  excursions  on  the  lake  and 
in  the  neighborhood,  with  the  concourse  of  agreeable 
strangers,  render  Yevay  a most  delightful  resort  in 
summer.  You  meet  hosts  of  English  snobs  at  the 
hotels — that  singular  class  of  economists  who  carry  an 
atmosphere  of  fog  wherever  they  go ; who,  in  spite  of 
those  comforts  which  they  grieve  for  “ at  home,”  are 


78 


LAUSANNE GIBBON. 


the  most  uncomfortable  and  damp-looking  strangers 
abroad.  Our  society  was  much  relieved  by  the  pre- 
sence of  a stout  dowager  Marquise  and  the  “ bonhom- 
mie”  of  a gay  lad  from  Geneva,  who  had  fled  to  the 
seclusion  of  the  lake  to  escape  the  recent  troubles  at 
home. 

We  spent  several  days  enjoying  the  beauty  of  this 
sweet  spot,  and  were  delighted  with  those  charming 
views  which  claim  all  praise  and  admiration,  from  the 
terrace  of  the  fine  old  church  of  St.  Martin  ; and  strolled 
by  the  shore  walk,  where  every  evening  groups  of  fair 
citizens  promenade  near  the  margin,  in  sight  of  that 
pretty  Gothic  chateau  of  the  Landvoigtei.  As  you 
ride  along  the  banks  to  Lausanne,  you  do  not  wonder 
that  Rousseau  should  have  chosen  such  sweet  nature 
to  be  inhabited  by  the  presence  of  his  Julie.  The  whole 
path  runs  through  a vineyard,  and  gives  prospects  out 
on  the  lake,  or  over  the  mountains  of  opposite  Savoy 
and  Mont  Blanc.  The  hotel  where  you  dine  has  little 
left  of  the  residence  of  Gibbon,  or  of  those  rooms  in 
which  he  wrote  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  Near  by  is  the  noble  viaduct  crossing  the 
Fons,  which  divides  the  lower  and  upper  town  ; whilst, 
prominent  over  the  rugged  sides  of  the  abyss,  stands 
that  fine  old  Minster  Church,  grand  in  proportion,  and 
evidencing  the  transition  age  of  the  early  pointed 
Gothic,  from  which  you  descend  down  some  rough  and 


FREIBURG. 


79 


unsightly  stairs  to  the  quaint  old  Bishop’s  Castle,  now 
used  as  the  Canton  Stadthouse. 

The  rain  fell  in  torrents  and  obscured  our  ride  from 
Lausanne  to  Moudon ; and  night  closed  in,  as  we  rode 
through  its  gates  and  descended  at  the  antiquated 
“ Stag,”  whose  capacious  rooms,  ranged  round  a com- 
mon hall,  were  large  enough  to  admit  a caravan,  and 
chamber  the  animals  into  the  bargain. 

We  were  glad  to  escape  from  this  hostelry,  and 
even  in  the  rain  to  ride  to  Freiburg,  only  baiting  our 
horses  at  Payerne.  On  the  road  you  pass  one  of  the 
largest  Jesuit  foundations  in  Switzerland.  You  enter 
this  capital  under  its  queer  old  gateways,  studded  by 
singular  old  towers  of  defence.  Within,  the  houses 
are  guarded  by  strong  iron  railings  at  the  windows, 
which  speak  of  those  warlike  pages  in  its  history, 
when  each  house  was  a separate  castle.  The  rapid 
course  of  the  Soane  divides  the  city  into  two  fearful 
chasms,  over  which  two  remarkably  high  suspension 
bridges  are  hung.  That  stream  also  marks  a pe- 
culiarity of  dialect ; Dutchmen  occupy  one  bank  and 
Frenchmen  the  other  of  the  upper  town.  Many  of 
the  houses  are  built  up  the  declivity  of  its  steep  banks ; 
and  oftentimes  the  stream  passes  under  the  foundations 
of  the  houses.  In  the  High  Church  of  St.  Nicholas,  is 
that  world-known  organ,  which  has  no  equal  except 
at  Haarlem  ; we  were  prevented,  however,  from  hear- 


80 


GATES  OF  BERNE. 


ing  its  thunders  from  the  singular  reason,  that  the  priest 
was  engaged  with  a prayer  for  the  extermination  of 
all  Protestant  Swiss,  and  invoking  curses  on  all  ene- 
mies of  the  Sunderbund.  The  terrace  of  the  Zah- 
ringer  Hof  commands  one  of  the  most  striking  features 
of  the  Galthern  valley,  on  which  the  greater  part  of  the 
town  is  built,  and  presents  a series  of  the  most  curious 
geological  faults  to  be  seen  in  Switzerland.  We  can 
commend  the  good  fare  and  excellent  Beaume  of  mine 
host,  for,  certes,  one  warms  into  the  appreciation  of 
scenery,  after  a good  glass  of  negus,  who  comes  miser- 
ably soaked  out  of  those  drenching  rains  which  often 
overtake  you  in  a hurry,  in  travel. 

The  sun  was  setting,  as  we  entered  the  gates  of 
Berne ; groups  of  happy  villagers  were  seated  under 
the  shade  of  those  lofty  elms,  which  line  the  road-side 
leading  to  the  city ; and  gay  peasants,  in  the  Bernese 
garb,  strolling,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  among  the 
gardens  and  promenades  which  hang  on  the  outskirts 
of  its  walls,  enjoyed  the  pleasing  outlines  of  the  distant 
Oberlands. 

These  graceful  Alps  limit  your  views  to  the  horizon, 
on  the  south ; and  lend  their  charming  features  to  that 
landscape  which  renders  the  situation  of  this  Swiss 
Diet  seat,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  attractive  in 
Switzerland. 


LEGENDARY  BEARS. 


81 


Associated  with  some  early  legends,  and  connected 
somehow  with  the  origin  of  this  capital,  are  those 
rampant  bears,  which  are  still  seen,  on  the  city  arms. 
Such  favorites  are  these  animals  with  the  citizens,  that 
an  annual  sum  is  voted  for  their  support,  and  they 
are  maintained  as  pensioners,  for  the  diversion  of  the 
young,  in  deep  pits  sunken  within  the  suburbs. 

One  is  particularly  struck  with  the  profile  of  this 
quaint  old  town ; the  odd  construction  of  its  houses  ; 
those  many  red  towers  looming  over  its  roofs  ; its  ar- 
caded side-walks,  its  streets  raised  above  the  footway  ; 
and  the  bold  tapering  needles  of  its  spires,  thrown  in 
such  fine  relief  against  the  clear  atmosphere  of  its 
northern  sky ! 

There  are  few  cities  which  command  so  many 
mountain  prospects  or  present  so  singular  and  striking 
an  aspect,  within  or  from  without,  as  it  rises  on  the 
semi-insular  bend  of  the  Aar.  That  view  of  the 
Oberland,  taken  from  the  Minster's  terrace,  is  glorious ; 
and  at  its  brink,  you  look  fearfully  down  on  the  lower 
town,  and  shrink  with  terror  at  the  story  of  that  fear- 
ful leap,  “ whence  dauntless  horsemen  plunged  below, 
unscathed."  A noble  stone  bridge  joins  the  old  and 
new  town. 

Among  the  minor  attractions  of  the  town,  are  its 
baths  and  the  hour-clock,  its  fountains  and  its  Diet, 
composed  of  those  singular  representatives  of  Swiss 


82 


LAKE  OF  THUN. 


honor,  with  their  red  and  black  cloaks,  who  look  as  if 
they  strove  to  represent  the  division  of  their  parties  by 
their  habits,  or  to  unite  their  French  and  German  con- 
stituency, in  the  double  colors  of  their  mantles. 

There  are  few  prettier  roads  than  that  which  leads 
from  Berne,  by  way  of  Thun  to  Interlacken.  You 
can  always  meet  with  a “ voiture  de  retour  ” to  take 
you  along  the  margin  of  Lake  Thun  ; a ride  which 
gives  you  more  picturesque  scenery,  than  a passage  in 
the  steamer.  At  Thun,  the  vivid  Aar  leaps  exultingly 
from  the  narrow  limits  of  its  rock  fastnesses,  and 
bounds  through  the  village,  rolling  its  waters  of  crystal 
clearness  and  ultra-marine,  like  two  rich  veins,  joining 
to  mingle  in  the  bosom  of  the  lake. 

High  above  the  village,  stand  the  picturesque  ruins 
of  its  castle  ; and  near  by,  from  the  opposite  height, 
the  belvidere  of  the  Pfarr  Church  commands  a glorious 
prospect  over  the  romantic  shores. 

Midway  on  the  lake  you  pass  the  ruined  castle  of 
Spitz ; and  the  entire  shore  presents  a succession  of 
delightful  views,  and  reflections  of  those  noble  hills, 
which  frown  over  its  opposite  banks. 

Unterseen  lies  at  the  foot  of  the  lake ; and  with 
Interlacken  fills  up  the  valley,  and  that  plain,  which 
separates  Lake  Thun  from  Brientz. 

The  society  of  Interlacken  is  almost  exclusively 
English.  Its  situation  is  unusually  beautiful,  and 


LAUTER-BRUNNEN. 


83 


climate  delightful.  The  narrow  lake  of  Brientz  af- 
, fords  its  charms  to  those  curious  enough  to  venture 
to  the  miniature  waters  of.  Fall  Griesbach  ; under 

* 

which  cascade  you  purchase  those  curious  wooden 
toys,  that  are  made  by  the  inmates  of  the  neighboring 
cottage.  You  return  to  your  hotel,  to  watch  the 
eternal  snows  of  the  Jungfrau,  as  it  closes  up  the 
valley ; and  glows  with  its  masses  of  transcendent 
brightness.  Its  lofty  and  sublime  peaks  dazzle  with  the 
brilliancy  of  those  icy  fields  ; and  its  summit  blazes 
with  a crown  of  light  as  pure  as  a vestal's  robe  ; a 
glorious  prospect  of  what  awaits  you  in  the  Oberland 
beyond  ; a constant  source  of  incitement  to  the  pursuit 
of  those  beauties,  which  lie  ensconced  within  the  rocky 
barriers  of  those  impendent  hills. 

That  deep  cut  in  yon  mountain,  marks  your  course 
over  the  plain  to  Lauter-brunnen.  It  is  a rough  and 
stony  road  for  your  carriage ; but  your  mind  is  too 
much  enwrapped  among  those  sublimities  of  nature, 
to  be  concerned  about  personal  inconvenience. 

Crossing  by  the  Castle  of  Unspannen  overlook- 
ing the  scene  of  the  peasants'  annual  fetes  for  wrest- 
ling, you  come  abruptly  to  that  high  rock  which 
blocks  the  way  to  the  ravine  beyond,  and  marks  the 
spot  of  a horrid  fratricide.  The  Boir  Stein  still  wit- 
nesses that  deed  of  darkness,  in  those  foul  stains  of 

blood,  that  mar  its  surface  ; and  casts  a mournful 
4* 


84 


GRINDELWALD. 


shadow  on  the  Lutchine’s  gurgling  stream,  flowing 
amidst  the  seclusions  of  that  gloomy  defile,  the  grand- 
est in  your  path.  About  a mile  from  Lauter-brunnen, 
the  Staubbach  (or  Dustfall)  drops  its  graceful  veil  of 
water,  over  the  shelving  of  yon  beetling  crag  ; and  in 
its  long  descent,  scatters  showers  of  mist  and  beauty, 
before  it  breaks  its  arrowy  curve  against  the  rough 
margin  of  its  rocky  basin  below. 

A short  distance  beyond  a bridle-path  winds  up  the 
mountain,  in  the  ascent  of  the  Wengern  Alps  to  Grin- 
delwald,  and  then  pursues  its  zigzag  course,  increasing 
in  wildness  and  grandeur,  until  the  summit  is  attained ; 
whence  you  look  back  and  catch  a crow’s  view  of  the 
low  valley  beneath,  and  view  the  clear  waters  of  the 
Dustfall,  which  now  seems  like  a ribbon  suspended 
from  the  precipice,  and  so  slight  is  its  pliant  form,  that 
the  winds  blow  it  aside  like  vapor. 

At  the  relay-house  you  have  a glorious  sight  of  the 
Jungfrau,  Eigerhorn,  and  other  of  the  Bernese  chain, 
whilst  every  instant  the  air  rings  with  the  thunder  of 
tumbling  and  crashing  avalanches. 

Beyond  this,  the  path  increases  in  wildness  and 
sublimity. 

Our  poor  beasts  scrambled  with  pain  over  the 
rocky  traces  of  the  footway.  We  were  obliged  to 
dismount,  and  walked,  at  times,  through  a drenching 
rain  ; now  taking  shelter  under  a chalet,  and  again, 


GRINDELWALD. 


85 


under  those  almost  solitary  trees  which  battle  for  exist- 
ence in  this  wilderness  of  granite.  We  should  have 
almost  despaired  of  ever  reaching  a cover  that  night, 
but  for  the  example  set  us  by  two  courageous  ladies, 
who  bore  the  fatigues  of  this  terrible  journey  with 
noble  fortitude. 

That  night  we  stopped  at  the  village  of  Grindel- 
wald,  lying  at  the  foot  of  its  glacier.  We  were  enter- 
tained at  the  inn  by  the  songs  of  the  peasants,  and  the 
conversational  French  of  some  English  gentleman,  giv- 
ing an  account  of  his  passage  over  these  mountains ; 
during  which,  we  thought,  had  his  ascent  been  accom- 
panied with  the  same  irregularity  as  his  description, 
he  could  have  chosen  no  better  exponent  than  this  con- 
glomerate of  broken  and  disjointed  Gallic. 

A bright  and  glowing  sunshine  broke  over  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Sheidoeck,  at  which  we  arrived,  as  some 
peasants  were  assembling  for  the  dance.  The  sound 
of  simple  melodies  in  this  distant  land  was  too  potent 
for  resistance,  and  no  sooner  heard,  than  we  all  dis- 
mounted, and  joined  in  with  the  mountaineers. 

Here  also  we  listened  to  those  lugubrious  echoes 
of  the  Alpine  horn,  an  instrument  which  defies  all 
power  of  description,  and  claims  no  origin,  except 
it  be  in  the  mouth  of  some  ancient  geological  mas- 
todon. 

Keeping  in  sight  of  the  Wetter,  Eiger,  and  Engels- 


86 


MEHRINGEN  TO  GRIMSEL. 


horn,  we  hurried  on,  and  soon  commenced  a descent 
into  the  picturesque  valley  of  the  Rosenlaui.  At  its 
foot,  that  pretty  fall  leaps  over  the  last  steps  of  the 
mountain,  and  sends  its  rapid  waters  to  join  the  melt- 
ing streams  of  that  sweetest  of  all  forms  of  glacier, 
which  rises  at  the  side  of  the  Angel-horn. 

Beyond  this,  on  the  way  to  Mehringen,  you  pass 
the  Seidfall,  as  insignificant,  although  not  less  beautiful 
than  others,  on  the  road  leading  to  the  highlands,  and 
overlooking  the  village. 

Leaving  it,  with  the  greater  fall  of  the  Reichen- 
bach  on  our  left,  we  crossed  the  plain,  and  entering 
the  Boden  Pass,  followed  the  valley  of  Aar  as  far  as 
Guddan6e  that  night. 

Crags  and  precipices  rise  abruptly  over  the  rapid 
and  boisterous  stream  of  the  Aar,  as  you  emerge  from 
the  rugged  sides  of  the  Boden. 

Mountain  follows  mountain  in  terrible  succession, 
and  these  rocky  barriers  rise,  like  mural  defences, 
against  the  ever  lowering  mist  of  their  regions.  Their 
stony  faces  are  so  moistened  by  perpetual  dews,  that 
scarcely  foothold  can  be  had  for  man  or  beast.  The 
defiles  become  more  narrow,  the  path  more  intricate ; 
and  it  is  with  timorous  step  that  you  are  led  by  the 
brink  of  some  fearful  chasm. 

Misshapen  and  huge  piles  of  rock  strew  the  way, 
straggling  in  singular  confusion  of  the  road,  until  the 


DEAD  SEA HOSPITAL. 


87 


„ sounds  of  thundering  waters  strike  the  ear,  as  you 
come  out  amidst  those  chaotic  masses,  where  the  Aar 
leaps  in  its  crazy  fury  over  the  gates  of  these  mountain 
gorges. 

This  spot  is  the  climax  of  sublimity  and  awe  ; and 
as  you  walk  out  on  that  slight  plank  which  overhangs 
its  brink,  you  feel  suspicious  of  your  foothold,  and 
tremble  with  the  motion  of  its  waters. 

That  sight  is  beautifully  relieved  by  the  contrast  of 
its  muddy  waters  with  the  clear  and  gentle  stream, 
which  runs  in  close* proximity  into  the  same  abyss. 

Passing  thence  onward,  your  admiration  is  sus- 
tained by  the  wildness  of  its  margin,  and  the  stupen- 
dous height  of  those  overlooking  mountains ; and  all  is 
grand  and  sublime  in  effect,  until  you  reach  the  gloomy 
and  sterile  district  of  the  Grimsel. 

Our  over-excited  minds  and  wearied  bodies  found 
relief,  even  in  the  placid  gloom  of  its  dark  and  sullen 
lake.  That  dark  sea  seemed  like  a funeral  pall  over 
the  death  of  nature ; and  its  terrible  grandeur  is  height- 
ened by  the  presence  of  overhanging  cliffs,  casting 
their  long  and  black  shadows  over  the  surface  of  those 
mystic  waters. 

All  here  is  sterile  and  barren  ; and  save  the  shel- 
tering roof  of  the  Hospital,  its  solitary  inmates,  and  a 
few  goats  scrambling  among  the  crags,  all  is  deathlike 
and  deserted. 


88 


ASCENT  OF  THE  FURCA. 


The  saddle-formed  ridge  of  the  Grimsel  rears  its 
gloomy  head  over  the  margin  of  that  pond,  and  divides 
the  path  to  Italy  from  the  Rhone.  You  climb  up  its 
stony  steeps,  and  through  its  perpetual  mist,  grope  your 
direction  to  the  glacier  beyond. 

Here  the  guide  led  us  by  his  own  instinct,  some- 
times over  the  surface,  and  at  times  by  the  side  of  the 
frozen  sea,  until  we  emerged  from  obscurity  to  the 
more  accessible,  but  less  firm  base  of  the  Furca. 

During  its  ascent,  you  catch  a grand  view  of  this, 
the  most  magnificent  of  Alpine  snows.  The  glaciers 
of  the  Rhone  impressed  us  even  more  than  the  Mer- 
de-Glace,  as  it  stretched  its  icy  walls  across  the  valley, 
and  dropped  from  the  mountain  tops  like  a cataract 
frozen  in  its  fall. 

The  summit  of  the  Furca  came  after  a tedious  as- 
cent, but  not  without  provoking  the  laughter  of  a party 
of  Austrians  upon  our  appearance  and  the  aspect  of 
our  fat  friend,  whose  embarrassment  on  muleback  was 
not  dissimilar  to  Panza’s  position  amid  the  Sierras  of 
Morena. 

We  were  indignant  at  this  outbreak  on  our  misfor- 
tunes, and  would  have  stopped  to  settle  a round  with 
our  guides,  but  for  the  peaceful  influence  of  the  cause 
of  this  untimely  merriment. 

On  descending  the  Furca,  you  gain  your  first  sight 
of  the  St.  Gothard  and  its  chain.  A few  wild  flowers 


SAINT  GOTHARD  ROAD URI. 


89 


now  growing  by  the  roadside  afford  a pleasing  contrast 
to  the  desert  we  had  passed,  and  beyond,  the  comfort- 
able lodge  of  the  monk  at  Realp  gave  us  an  appetite 
and  zest  to  enjoy  our  hurried  march  to  Hospenthal. 


SAINT  GOTHARD  ROAD. 

We  had  now  reached  the  St.  Gothard  road  to  Italy. 
We  dismissed  our  guides,  and  took  a carriage  for 
Altorf. 

The  hole  of  Uri  is  no  unfit  introduction  to  the 
fearful  wildness  of  the  country  beyond. 

Shortly  after  passing  this  tunnelled  rock,  amid  the 
howling  of  the  wind,  a beating  rain,  and  almost  envel- 
oped by  the  low  clouds  drawn  by  the  swift  current  of 
the  Aar,  we  came  suddenly  upon  the  “ Devil’s  Bridge,5' 
so  terrible  in  situation,  and  so  gracefully  suspended 
over  that  dashing  and  furious  torrent.  Never  was 
spot  more  fitly  named,  nor  time  more  opportune  to 
view.  This  road  is  one  of  the  best  in  Switzerland, 
and  is  surpassed  by  none  in  the  beauty  of  its  scenery. 
In  spite  of  the  rain  and  storm  its  grandeur  was  ever 
prominent,  and  our  interest  was  sustained  during  the 
entire  journey,  even  to  the  environs  of  Altorf. 

We  walked  over  to  Burglen,  where  a small  chapel 
marks  the  birth-place  of  William  Tell.  The  Reuss 
flows  with  its  rapid  waters  beside  the  homestead,  and 


90 


LAKE TELL’s  CHAPEL. 


near  the  bridge,  from  which  we  viewed  it  from  the 
bank,  its  current  rolls  over  the  spot  of  his  untimely 
grave.  He  was  drowned  in  his  attempt  to  rescue  a 
child,  during  an  inundation. 

An  hour’s  walk  brings  you  to  Fluellen,  situated  at 
the  foot  of  the  Lake  of  four  Cantons. 

Four  stalwart  oarsmen  pulled  us  to  the  chapel  of 
William  Tell,  located  about  midway,  on  a ledge  of 
rocks  projecting  into  the  lake,  and  marking  the  spot 
whence  he  escaped  Gesler’s  vengeance. 

Its  wild  and  secluded  position  makes  a sweet 
picture  amidst  those  shelving  mountains : and  thence 
you  command  the  most  striking  features  of  those 
waters. 

Shortly  after,  we  landed  at  Brunnen,  from  which 
you  obtain  a long  vista  down  the  entire  lake.  Here 
we  took  conveyance  for  Arth,  passing  through  the 
very  heart  of  Switzerland,  Canton  Schweitz,  Jrom 
whence  its  name,  and  in  which  the  Jesuits  have  one  of 
their  largest  establishments.  I could  not  but  be  amused 
by  our  guide’s  contempt  for  such  unnecessary  expen- 
diture in  this  poverty-stricken  district,  or  by  his 
quiet  assurance,  “ that  those  drones  should  be  driven 
away,  and  that  college  would  be  better  used  as  an 
alms-house.”  These  words  were  truthfully  fulfilled  that 
very  summer,  when  all  Jesuits  were  banished  from 
Switzerland.  We  were  struck  by  the  many  chapels 


BRUNNEN  TO  LOWERTZ. 


91 


which  deck  the  roadside,  at  which  some  peasants  knelt 
in  silent  prayer,  and  counted  beads  before  the  image 
of  the  Virgin.  One  cannot  but  sympathize  with  the 
sorrows  of  a heart  whose  body  suffers  in  the  stormy 
trials  of  life.  Far  be  it  from  any  to  scoff  at  these  forms 
of  devotion,  but  rather  respect  a feeling,  even  super- 
stitious, as  it  may  seem,  which  has  but  one  spark  of 
the  element  of  true  religion. 

You  are  charmed  by  the  pleasing  landscapes  which 
fill  up  the  valley  to  Lowertz  ; — that  pretty  village  en- 
sconced at  the  angle  of  its  lake,  as  it  is  watched  over  by 
two  giant  “ mitres/'  irregularly  bold  and  abrupt  peaks, 
which  stand  as  sentinels  over  its  beautiful  repose. 

The  road  now  ran  along  the  margin  of  this  pictu- 
resque lake,  and  a short  ride  brought  us  in  sight  of 
Goldau,  which  still  bears  the  marks  of  that  fearful  ava- 
lanche in  1806,  when  the  Rossberg  was  shaken  from 
its  base  and  slid  into  the  valley,  covering  its  inhabit- 
ants and  houses  with  the  debris  of  its  fall.  The  old, 
imburied  town  has  been  replaced  by  a new  one.  The 
whole  landscape  wears  yet  a misshapen  and  abnormal 
form.  Huge  boulders  lay  scattered  over  the  plain,  and 
are  fearful  evidences  of  the  violence  and  force  of  na- 
ture when  a mountain  is  set  in  motion  by  an  earth- 
quake. 

The  sun  was  setting  over  the  Lake  of  Zug,  as  we 
looked  out  from  the  porch  of  the  “ Aigle  Noir,”  and 


92 


SUNSET  ON  LAKE  ZUG. 


watched  the  last  lingering  tones  of  daylight  stealing 
away  from  its  placid  waters,  and  softening  the  outlines 
of  these  distant  mountains. 

In  that  hour  of  soft  repose,  when  the  last  waves  of 
daylight  roll  from  the  face  of  nature,  and  the  shadows 
fall  dark  and  long,  the  soul  is  seized  with  the  trans- 
forming power  of  creation,  and  elevated  to  devotion 
and  adoration  of  such  beauty.  It  is  the  gentle  beauty 
of  her  lakes,  which  contrast  so  sweetly  with  the  wild- 
ness and  sublimity  of  her  mountains,  that  makes  up  the 
poet’s  idea  of  Switzerland.  Magnificence  and  beauty 
are  wedded  in  the  birthplace  of  the  Swiss. 

There  is  a pretty  bridle-path,  which  leads  from 
Arlh  to  Kussnacht ; and  by  the  roadside,  on  the  mar- 
gin of  the  lake,  stands  another  chapel  commemorative 
of  Tell,  as  it  rises  in  association  with  the  death  of 
Gesler. 

Lucky  is  he,  who  finds  a clear  day  to  ascend  the 
Righi.  I have  known  parties  to  wait  a week  to  hail 
the  sunrise  from  its  glorious  culm.  We  arose  at  dawn, 
and  started  with  the  promise  of  fair  weather.  Our 
party,  mounted  on  steeds  which  would  have  rivalled 
the  bare  bones  of  Rosinante,  commenced  the  ascent, 
and  were  fortunate  in  reaching  the  summit  without 
rain. 

The  view  from  the  top  is  magnificent,  and  extends 
over  all  that  glories  in  the  name  of  Switzerland.  That 


• *1 


Descent  in  the  rain  from  Righi  Culm. 


RIGHI  CULM— EINSIEDELN. 


93 


panorama,  from  its  sublimity,  beauty,  and  extent,  has 
no  equal  in  Europe.  Lakes,  villages,  mountains,  Alps, 
all  lay  stretched  out  on  the  face  of  nature.  It  seemed 
the  very  pinnacle  of  natural  glory.  It  is  one  of  those 
spots  from  which  the  soul  wings  its  flight  to  regions  of 
celestial  bliss,  and  poised  amid  transports  of  transcend- 
ant  joys,  revels  in  those  visions  of  infinite  purity  and 
love  which  magnify  our  relations  to  eternity. 

We  enjoyed  the  view  so  long  as  to  be  fully  impreg- 
nated with  its  magnificence,  and  until  a heavy  and  ob- 
scuring mist  rose  from  the  valley  and  spread  its  veil 
over  the  whole  landscape. 

As  we  descended,  we  crossed  the  mountain  directly 
to  the  vale  of  the  Capuchin  Convent,  and  ere  we  were 
under  shelter  the  rain  fell  in  such  torrents  as  to  render 
our  further  progress  uncomfortable. 

That  misfortune  rather  added  zest  to  our  sport,  and 
as  we  descended  in  the  rain,  our  guides  assured  us 
that  there  never  was  so  gay  a party,  such  good  horses, 
or  such  generous  men  as  the  Americans.  We,  in  re- 
turn, so  charged  them  with  the  ideas  of  liberty  and 
money,  that  they  almost  swore  they  would  come  to 
the  country. 

That  same  afternoon  we  crossed  over  the  spur  of 
hills  which  runs  at  the  side  of  the  Rossberg,  on  our 
way  to  “Eremite.”  We  reach  Einsiedeln  about  night- 


94 


SHRINE  AT  EREMITE PILGRIMS. 


fall,  and  next  morning  walked  into  the  church  of  the 
Benedictines,  in  which  is  the  shrine  of  the  black  Virgin 
and  black  Child.  One  is  rather  surprised  to  remark 
this  color  of  the  Madonna  and  her  infant,  a discrepancy 
which  was  readily  overcome  by  the  discovery  of  the 
image  in  Africa. 

This  resort  of  the  faithful  is  annually  visited  by  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pilgrims,  who  arrive,  wea- 
ried and  fatigued  from  their  march,  to  drink  the  waters 
of  life  out  of  the  springs  which  gush  forth  in  the 
porches  before  the  cloister. 

That  mountain  has  an  identity  with  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  and  one  fountain  is  the  same  as  that 
from  which  our  Lord  slaked  his  thirst ; which  one,  the 
faithful  even  know  not,  but  for  fear  of  mistake  they 
drink  out  of  all. 

Within  the  church  are  the  remains  of  all  the  saints 
in  Christendom,  set  in  glass  coffins,  to  be  viewed  in  all 
their  ghastly  deformity. 

We  escaped  from  this  scene  of  beggarly  supersti- 
tion, heart-sick  with  the  mummery  of  that  infant 
darkey,  and  were  glad  to  breathe  the  free  air  of  Rap- 
persc-hwyl,  as  we  came  once  more  in  sight  of  the  wa- 
ters of  Lucerne. 

The  gentle  shores  of  the  lake  enliven  the  roadside, 
which  is  richly  cultivated  with  vineyard  and  orchard. 


FALLS  OF  THE  RHINE. 


95 


The  pretty  village  of  Zurich  adds  its  charms  at  the 
head  of  the  lake. 

Zurich  has  many  points  of  interest,  but  no  pecu- 
liarity over  other  Swiss  towns.  The  country  about  it 
is  very  flat,  although  in  a high  state  of  cultivation  ; and 
the  plain  which  you  cross  at  the  intersection  of  the 
Duchy  of  Baden,  is  covered  with  pretty  villages.  On 
the  road  to  Schaffhausen,  you  pass  through  the  towns 
of  Jettson  and  Lotteson,  which  afford  a strong  contrast 
of  misery  and  filth  to  the  neatness  and  propriety  of  the 
Swiss. 

The  hotel  at  Schaffhausen  commands  a striking 
prospect  of  the  Falls  of  the  Rhine  ; but  a still  better 
view  is  obtained  by  crossing  the  stream  to  the  pictu- 
resque chateau  of  Laufen.  Two  pretty  Swiss  maidens 
crossed  with  us  in  the  boat.  They  were  dressed  in  the 
perfection  of  the  Bernese  costume,  and  seemed  highly 
pleased  at  viewing  those  Falls,  in  whose  neighborhood 
they  had  spent  all  their  lives. 

Owing  to  the  many  heavy  rains,  the  Falls  were 
fuller  than  usual ; and  their  effect  was  much  height- 
ened by  a sight  through  colored  lenses  which  gave  to 
the  same  scenes  the  various  tones  and  aspects  of  the 
seasons. 

We  rode  on  to  Waldshut  that  night,  and  lodged  in 
an  inn  which  had  been  formerly  the  mansion  of  some 
royal  duke.  The  next  morning  we  continued  on  to 


96 


LAUFENBURG. 


Basle,  passing  through  many  small  villages,  and  by  the 
side  of  the  Rhine. 

At  Laufenburg  this  river  has  a wild  and  rapid  move- 
ment, and  at  the  mill  the  stream  swells  to  the  fury  of 
a cataract. 


OYER  THE  BORDERS  OF  FRANCE,  SWITZER- 
LAND, AND  GERMANY. 


BASLE. 

The  site  of  Basle,  extending  on  both  sides  of  the 
Rhine,  was  highly  striking ; the  more  so,  from  being 
the  first  river  town  of  note  in  our  course.  Its  features 
are  more  particularly  German  than  Swiss.  Its  cathe- 
dral is  of  a Gothic  style,  peculiar  to  the  north ; and 
outside,  on  its  portals,  are  two  striking  stone  images, 
such  as  are  rarely  seen  in  any  other  lands  but  Ger- 
many and  France.  There  is  an  excellent  collection  of 
Holbein’s  in  the  Museum,  besides  a good  copy  of  the 
“ Dance  of  Death.” 

We  felt,  however,  that  we  were  more  especially  out 
of  Switzerland  ; and  in  order  to  give  full  force  to  our 
German  entrance,  the  whole  party  took  to  meershaums 
and  tobacco. 

Outside  the  town  you  take  the  railroad  for  Stras- 


98 


STRASBURG  CATHEDRAL. 


burg,  and  pass  most  of  the  way  on  the  confines  of 
France. 

The  classic  Dome  rises  in  sight  for  miles  before 
you  enter  within  this  city,  which  has  little  else  than  the 
cathedral  and  its  pates  de  foie  gras . We  mounted  to 
the  pinnacle,  more  for  the  sake  of  admiring  the  minute 
finish  of  the  stone  tracery  of  the  tower,  than  for  that 
dull  view  over  the  flats  of  the  Rhine.  The  whole 
exterior  may  be  deemed  the  perfection  of  ecclesiastical 
Gothic,  and  will  live  with  the  memory  of  Erwin  of 
Steinback,  as  the  noblest  work  of  man  ever  dedicated 
to  the  worship  of  the  Incarnate  God. 

At  Kehl,  about  one  hour’s  ride  from  Strasburg, 
you  pass  the  bridge  of  boats  over  the  Rhine,  and  here 
take  the  cars  for  Baden-Baden.  This  European  Sara- 
toga is  one  of  the  most  charming  spots  on  the  Conti- 
nent. Its  central  position  renders  it  accessible  to  all 
nations  ; as  you  observe  from  the  features  and  lan- 
guages of  its  visitors,  who  are  Jews  and  Gentiles, 
French,  Germans,  Russians,  Swiss, — everybodies  and 
nobodies. 

Its  environs  are  truly  delightful,  and  your  daily 
drives  are  to  the  castle  of  the  Princess  Sybilla,  la  Favor- 
ite, and  up  the  valley  of  the  Mungthal  to  the  Fabrick. 
Every  path  through  the  town  is  a walk  of  pleasure. 
The  old  ruined  castle,  Eberstein,  is  one  of  the  most 
delightful  promenades,  and  commands  a most  pictu- 


BADEN-BADEN. 


99 


resque  view  of  the  country  beyond  the  Mungthal  val- 
ley, extending  on  fair  days  to  the  distant  spire  of  Stras- 
burg  and  the  town  of  Speyer. 

In  the  Cursaal,  you  can  be  diverted  with  a look  at 
the  gambling  tables,  which  are  open  to  the  public. 
Both  sexes  are  admitted,  if  foreigners  ; but  no  subject 
of  the  duke  is  allowed  to  play. 

In  the  evening,  a fine  band  of  music  played  in  the 
open  square,  in  front ; and  the  ground  was  covered 
with  groups,  scattered  around  the  tables,  before  the 
cafes,  smoking  and  drinking  coffee.  Besides  these, 
balls,  concerts,  baths,  and  converzationes  are  added,  to 
complete  the  numerous  amusements  of  this  curious 
watering-place.  There  was  every  thing  here  but  beauty 
in  their  women,  who  lack  even  the  consolation  of 
making  an  uglier  grimace  before  their  glasses. 

We  secured  our  seats  in  the  railroad  for  Heidelburg. 
The  country  through  which  we  passed  was  well  culti- 
vated, and  abounded  in  tobacco.  You  pass  along  the 
valley  of  the  Neckar,  and  occasionally  catch  a view  of 
a picturesque  ruin  seated  on  those  hills  which  border 
the  immense  plains  of  this  region. 


HEIDELBURG. 


Heidelburg  is  famous  for  its  University,  but  chiefly 
for  its  glorious  old  castle,  that  frowned  for  ages  over 
5 


100 


HEIDELBURG  CASTLE. 


the  quiet  village  below,  and  still  casts  its  shadows  over 
the  Neckar,  which  flows  at  its  feet.  In  its  ruin,  it  is 
magnificent,  and  evidences  not  only  those  formidable 
intrenchments  of  Baron  robbers  of  old,  but  a beauty  of 
architectural  proportion  and  comfort  which  is  rarely 
met  with  in  the  frailer  tenements  of  modern  date. 

At  evening,  when  the  pale  moonlight  gleams 
through  the  casements  of  its  crumbling  walls,  there  is 
a witchery  in  the  scene,  which  entrances  the  sight, 
and  little  effort  of  the  mind  is  needed  to  revive  the 
spirit  of  its  ancient  days,  or  to  people  its  halls  with 
vassal  and  train ; and,  less  than  magic,  to  lull  those 
soft  summer  winds  into  the  music  of  gay  troubadours, 
singing  the  lays  of  ancestral  feats  and  prowess.  It  is 
a grand  old  ruin. 

The  famous  old  tun  which  lies  in  the  cellar,  is  the 
same  as  that  filled  with  wine  at  vintage  time;  and, 
when  holding  its  800  hogsheads,  then  was  the  time  for 
peasants  to  dance  upon  its  head,  at  the  crowning  feast 
of  the  autumnal  harvest. 

There  are  many  beautiful  walks  in  the  woods  be- 
hind the  castle,  and  glorious  landscapes  over  the  Neckar 
and  its  plains. 


GOETHE THE  ARIADNE. 


101 


FRANKFORT-ON-MAIN. 

Frankfort  glories  in  the  celebrity  of  its  Goethe, 
to  whom  they  have  erected  a noble  bronze  statue  just 
opposite  his  former  residence.  We  stopped  here  long 
enough  to  see  the  “ Ariadne  ” of  Danneker ; that  beau- 
tiful statue,  of  such  soft  repose  and  grace,  that  it  repays 
all  the  trouble  which  you  have  in  seeing  it. 

We  left  this  singularly  Jewish  town,  which  has 
been  given  up  to  commerce  and  old  clothes,  for  May- 
ence,  on  the  Rhine.  This  military  post  affords  little 
beyond  the  strength  of  its  fortifications  for  admiration. 
It  is  here  you  take  the  steamer,  and  commence  the 
celebrated  and  much  travelled  Rhine  trip. 


VOYAGE  DOWN  THE  BHINE. 


THE  RHINE. 

One  has  heard  too  much  of  the  Rhine.  Poets  have 
sung  its  beauties ; freebooters,  barons,  have  governed 
in  its  castellated  hills,  and  under  the  name  of  lords 
protectors,  have  been  ever  ready  to  pounce  upon  their 
unsuspecting  subjects,  and  rob  them  of  their  harvests 
and  their  freights. 

The  whole  interest  of  the  Rhine  begins  at  Mayence, 
and  ends  at  Bonn.  In  that  space  lie  all  its  castles, 
picturesque  villages,  hamlets,  palaces,  and  vineyards. 
These  castles  lend  their  charm  of  ruined  loveliness  to 
the  beauty  of  the  landscape,  and  form  chambers  of 
hallowed  memories,  in  which  all  that  is  beautiful  in 
thought  and  fancy  lingers ; their  ruined  walls  lifting 
their  forms  over  the  vine-clad  slopes,  are  subjects  for 
the  pencil,  and  for  works  of  fiction  ; the  well-terraced 


THE  RHINE  TRIP. 


103 


vine  spreads  its  mantle  over  its  peaceful  hills,  and  the 
naked  rocks  glow  with  the  berry  and  the  grape. 
Towns  and  hamlets  speak  forth  their  tales  of  ancient 
deeds  of  fearful  wonderment  and  woe  ; they  charm 
by  their  histories,  and  combine  with  its  rapid  stream, 
castellated  heights,  pretty  round  towers,  steeples,  and 
vineyards,  to  hallow  the  associations  of  the  Rhine ; 
whilst  every  object  seen,  as  grouped  by  art  and  nature, 
tends  to  harmonize  those  feelings  which  have  been 
cherished  with  beauty  and  nourished  with  religious 
care,  for  the  entertainment  of  the  heart  or  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  excited  fancy.  All,  indeed,  is  beautiful ; 
and  fairer  yet,  at  evening,  when  the  moonbeams  play 
on  the  rippling  waves,  and  the  fitful  shades  of  light 
clouds  break  into  fantasies  of  enchanted  visions. 

But  there  is  a fairer  river  which  flows  amid  thy 
hills,  Manhattan ; and  thine  is  a beauty  which  the  old 
world  knows  not.  On  thy  banks,  sweet  Hudson,  are 
scenes  of  gentler  mien ! and  thine  is  an  enchantment 
of  more  truthful  force  ; thy  legends  are  not  traced 
with  the  finger  of  blood,  nor  thy  clear  surface  ruffled 
by  the  fearful  waves  of  tyranny.  The  pure  airs  of 
liberty  are  wafted  over  thy  waters,  and  the  free  people 
thy  shores.  Give  me  the  Hudson  ! The  Rhine  may 
be  named  apart ; take  away  its  castles  and  those  vines, 
its  poetry,  and  all  is  muddy,  turbid,  and  rocky.  Avaunt 
ye  visions  of  the  Rhine  ! keep  your  dismantled  castles 


104 


DIEUTZ  AND  GARDENS. 


as  the  watchtowers  of  sour  grapes,  and  give  us  a lodge, 
even  in  a garden  of  cucumbers,  in  America. 


COLOGNE. 

Johannisberg,  Rudesheim,  Bonn,  Ehrenbreitstein, 
and  Coblentz,  are  among  the  many  pretty  and  interest- 
ing towns  which  cheer  your  sail  down  the  Rhine  to 
Cologne ; but  nothing  pleased  so  much  as  the  approach 
to  this  city,  with  the  bold  outlines  of  its  noble  Dome, 
and  its  numerous  church  towers  looming  in  glorious 
sunshine  against  the  dark  gathering  clouds  of  an  eve- 
ning storm. 

It  was  Sunday ; and  all  the  town  were  out,  and 
gathered  about  the  gardens  and  cafes  at  Dieutz.  Its 
noble  cathedral,  over  400  feet  in  length,  with  its  unfin- 
ished tower,  when  completed,  (of  which  there  is  little 
hope,)  will  form  one  of  the  most  imposing  edifices  in 
Europe.  That  view  of  the  city  had  from  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  Rhine,  perfects  the  outlines  of  its  features 
and  harmonizes  the  whole  into  a pleasing  picture.  I 
found  the  garden  full  of  people,  variously  occupied  at 
seltzer  water  and  tete-a-tete ; and,  strolling  among  its 
walks,  whilst  they  smoked  and  drank,  I listened  to  the 
music  of  the  bands,  until  I stopped,  with  fixed  gaze,  to 
watch  the  beautiful  effects  of  sunset  gilding  the  spires 


SCENTS  AND  PERFUMES. 


105 


of  the  distant  city.  Cologne  is,  nevertheless,  one  of 
the  filthiest  cities  in  Europe. 

“ Ye  gods ! what  stenches  in  your  streets 
The  oft  offended  nostril  meets.” 

Such  scenes  alone  account  for  the  abundance  of  Co- 
logne water,  and  nought  but  so  stern  a nuisance  could 
have  called  forth  the  genius  of  Farina’s  invention. 

Although  it  was  Sunday,  all  the  shops  were  open, 
and  the  market-places  full  of  buyers  and  sellers. 

The  Rhine  ceases  to  interest  at  Cologne,  whence 
its  banks  continue  flat,  monotonous,  and  dull,  even  as 
far  as  Arnheim. 


HOLLAND. 


AMSTERDAM. 

When  you  first  set  your  foot  on  Dutch  ground,  (if 
that  may  be  called  soil  which  is  nothing  but  piles  and 
mud,)  you  can  do  nothing  better  to  amuse  yourself, 
than  read  about  the  eleven  thousand  virgins  who  were 
drowned  somewhere  about  the  lower  Rhine,  and  whose 
bones  are  so  neatly  classified  in  the  old  church  at  Co- 
logne ; but  you  must  pin  your  faith  on  the  legend  of 
those  vestals,  for  never  since  that  day  have  so  many 
maids  been  found  in  Germany. 

No  sooner  do  you  approach  Dutch  territory,  than 
you  are  reminded  of  their  nationality,  by  a sight  of 
those  lumbering  arms  of  windmills  which  indicate  a 
Dutchman,  as  well  as  a hovering  buzzard  the  presence 
of  some  neighboring  carcass.  These  flying  Dutch- 
men are  not  unfit  emblems  of  the  untiring  industry  of 


WATER  PROSPECTS SIGHTS. 


107 


a people,  who,  by  force  of  continual  pumping,  draining, 
diking,  and  canals,  have  reclaimed  a vast  territory  from 
the  sea,  and  set  up  their  cities  upon  masts  from  the 
forests  of  Norway.  Again,  honest  Mynheer,  with  his 
pipe,  is  no  bad  illustration  of  practical  philosophy ; and 
whilst  he  throws  smoke  in  his  neighbor’s  eyes,  is  all  the 
while  chewing  his  quid  of  lucrative  and  shrewd  specu- 
lation. 

Amid  darkness  and  these  reflections,  we  were  ush- 
ered at  night  into  Amsterdam,  one  of  their  most  nota- 
ble cities.  Built  entirely  upon  driven  piles,  along  the 
arms  of  the  Y,  it  assumes  the  form  of  a demi-iune, 
and  becomes  the  very  embodiment  of  the  Dutch  them- 
selves, just  saved  between  wind  and  water. 

That  grand  view  from  the  Stadthaus  belfry,  but  for 
the  Amsel  and  its  bank,  would  be  Venetian.  Just 
walk  out  from  your  hotel  and  see  the  versatile  move- 
ments of  the  people,  their  occupations,  and  their  habits. 
You  may  take  few  by-paths,  but  much  water ; you 
can  go  by  wind,  water,  steam,  or  carriage.  On  water, 
you  move  by  dreyschutz,  scow,  flatboat,  or  galleon  ; 
and  on  land,  by  sledge,  drosky,  sedan,  or  sabot.  Just 
look  over  the  bridge,  and  see  the  jumble  of  a Chinese 
landscape,  or  fancy  a Dutch  travestie  of  Hogarth’s 
false  perspective,  where  you  have  trees  with  shipping, 
houses  and  canals,  boats  and  windmills,  all  huddled 

together  in  delightful  confusion  before  you.  Truly 

5* 


108 


NEATNESS. 


these  people  are  troglodytes  in  ships’  hold,  and  no  less 
amphibious  than  the  very  frogs  who  croak  to  their 
evening  repose.  Some,  indeed,  go  the  entire  turtle  and 
always  inhabit  the  water,  and  carry  these  shells,  or 
casements  on  boats,  with  their  whole  family,  including 
pigs,  poultry,  and  cattle. 

One  universal  feature  of  neatness  and  cleanliness 
pervades  their  streets  and  dwellings.  The  pavements 
are  well  laid,  and  the  sidewalks,  in  small  bricks,  diag- 
onally laid.  Their  houses  are  constructed  of  very 
small  bricks,  some  painted  in  a dark  lead  color,  and 
others  left  in  the  natural,  with  the  most  scrupulous  pre- 
cision in  the  pointing  of  the  mortar.  Their  tiles  are 
particularly  red ; their  green  blinds  glow  with  the 
harmonious  tone  of  the  trees,  and  the  whole  exterior  is 
very  prim  and  tidy.  To  save  the  bruising  of  the  front 
door,  each  roof  is  provided  with  a projective  pulley 
and  tackle  always  in  readiness  to  hoist  any  furniture  or 
luggage,  wrhich  peeps  out  so  funnily  under  the  eaves, 
as  if  afraid,  or  on  guard,  lest  something  might  slip  in 
at  the  windows.  With  all  this,  it  is  not  rumored  that 
the  Dutch  are  over  nice  in  their  persons  ; but,  that 
their  industry  is  striking  and  their  women  are  pretty, 
is  as  undeniable  as  my  own  Dutch  origin  by  my  forty- 
ninth  cousin. 

The  very  animals  in  the  zoological  gardens  bear 
out  these  specialities  of  propriety,  for  the  very  ducks 


HAARLEM CURIOSITIES. 


109 


were  sprinkled  with  the  watering-pot,  and  the  swans’ 
tails  were  tied  up  to  keep  them  free  of  the  water. 

The  impression  of  Amsterdam  is  pleasing,  and  one 
leaves  with  an  idea  that  there  are  some  good  Rem- 
brandts in  the  museum. 

By  way  of  excursion,  our  next  visit  was  to  Haar- 
lem, celebrated  for  its  immense  culture  of  bulbous 
roots,  which  are  sent  thence  to  every  quarter  of  the 
globe,  but  noted  for  its  grand  organ,  which  was  played 
for  our  gratification,  and  showed  itself  to  be  an  instru- 
ment of  great  value  and  power.  This  pretty  town 
sustains  the  reputation  of  the  Dutch  for  cleanliness.  In 
the  suburbs  are  many  well-cared  public  gardens,  which 
skirt  the  line  of  its  ancient  fortification,  and  contribute 
with  other  attractions  to  render  it  a pleasant  resort. 

LA  HAAG. 

That  same  night,  we  passed  on  to  “ La  Hague,” 
known  as  one  of  the  most  interesting  towns  on  the 
Continent,  and  holding  a most  agreeable  court.  The 
presence  of  the  King,  and  the  residence  of  all  the  foreign 
ministers,  render  it  truly  delightful,  even  for  a sojourn 
of  a few  days.  Its  great  attraction  is  the  museum, 
which  contains  some  of  the  finest  paintings  of  the 
Flemish  school ; among  these,  ranks  first,  and  lives 
almost  on  the  canvas,  “ The  young  Bull  ” of  Paul  Pot- 
ter ; nor  is  it  deficient  in  its  collection  of  German, 


110 


MUSEUM PARK. 


French,  and  Italian  art.  In  the  King’s  private  palace, 
there  is  also  a fine  array  of  paintings  and  statuary ; be- 
sides one  of  the  choicest  portfolios  of  original  crayon 
sketches  by  Raphael,  Rembrandt,  and  Da  Vince,  extant. 
My  relish  for  this  visit  was  somewhat  lessened  by  the 
established  tariff  on  admission  ; for  before  you  go  out, 
you  are  astonished  and  shocked  at  the  importunities  of 
a nice,  and  neatly  cravatted  person,  to  whom  in  any 
other  country  you  would  have  been  delicate  in  offering 
a fee,  but  who  in  Holland — and  in  England,  which  she 
apes — under  the  garb  of  flunkies  and  lackeys,  lead  you 
to  suspect  any  individual,  who  dresses  out  of  the  proper 
habit  of  a gentleman. 

The  old  palace,  opposite  that  now  owned  by  the 
King,  is  shabbily  furnished,  and  has  but  a poor  collec- 
tion of  landscapes  and  royal  portraits. 

The  museum,  besides  its  paintings,  has  its  gallery 
of  curiosities,  Japanese  and  Chinese ; and  a sight  at 
these  royal  baby-houses  is  highly  suggestive  of  the 
facility  with  which  Kings  are  flattered,  and  a nation’s 
money  is  absorbed. 

You  have  the  most  delightful  quarters  at  the 
“ Bellevue  ” before  the  Park ; and  every  morning  avail 
yourself  of  seeing  a review  of  Lancers  and  Artillery. 

La  Hague  is  chiefly  frequented  on  account  of  its 
proximity  to  the  sea,  and  the  bathing  which  can  be  had 
at  Scheveningen. 


SCHEVENINGEN DOG-CARTS. 


Ill 


This  haven  is  about  a league  distant,  and  a fine 
carriage  road  and  footpath  runs  all  the  way  under  the 
shade  of  overhanging  elms ; whilst  the  avenue  is 
skirted  by  a pretty  natural  forest. 

As  you  ride  out,  you  will  be  amused  by  the  char- 
acteristic costumes  of  the  fishermen  and  of  the  Bil- 
lingsgate Dutch  fraus,  returning  on  donkeys,  or  with 
little  dog-carts,  after  their  sales  in  the  market-place  of 
Haag.  Just  as  we  arrived  at  the  town,  we  saw  a gay 
party  from  Rotterdam,  as  they  dismounted  at  the  inn, 
in  all  the  varieties  of  fancy  costumes,  and  ready  to 
keep  carnival  at  the  music  of  their  viols  and  tambou- 
rines. 

In  short,  S’Gravenhage  (its  proper  name),  its  pala- 
ces, court,  and  resident  ministers,  with  its  gardens  and 
galleries,  baths  and  libraries,  society  and  manners — 
are  so  curiously  and  quaintly  grouped  together,  that 
there  is  no  wonder  in  finding  among  them  so  charming 
a residence.  It  is,  in  fact,  an  assembly  of  palaces. 

We  left  La  Hague  with  regret;  and  by  railroad 
started  for  Rotterdam,  passing  through  a country  suit- 
able only  for  grazing,  and  destitute  of  every  object  of 
interest,  save  those  lumbering  windmills,  which  beat 
the  air  in  every  direction.  Schiedam,  through  which 
you  pass,  needs  not  any  reputation  beyond  its  Gineva, 
which  almost  stretches  its  length  to  the  Port. 


112 


STREET-VIEW FIRE  LIGHTS. 


ROTTERDAM. 

v 

Rotterdam  is  purely  a commercial  town,  which 
offers  but  the  attractions  of  its  Cathedral,  a statue  of 
Erasmus,  and  that  view  from  the  Exchange  which 
portrays  the  singularly  triangular  plan  of  the  city. 
An  hour  in  the  market-place,  and  a stroll  at  evening, 
will  give  you  a surfeit  of  its  seafaring  character,  and 
its  over-crowded  populace.  We  were  diverted  by  that 
class  of  biscuit  friers,  who  exercised  their  calling  by 
torchlight  in  the  lower  part  of  the  town,  and  who 
answered  somewhat  in  description  to  the  Macaroni 
venders  of  Naples.  Here  we  caught  the  originals  of 
those  strong  fire-lights,  of  which  certain  painters  of  the 
Dutch  school  were  so  fond,  and  so  apt  in  their  imita- 
tions. At  the  wharves,  crowded  ships,  charged  with 
their  freight  of  emigrants,  were  ready  to  embark.  We 
thought  of  the  possibility  of  meeting  them  again  in 
America,  and  passed  by,  not  without  a faint  suspicion, 
that  in  some  of  those  vessels  there  might  be  the  germ 
of  a future  President.  These  Dutch  beat  the  very 
deuce  for  sourkrout  and  cabbage. 

My  companions  left  me  at  this  point  on  their  route 
to  Paris.  We  parted,  not  without  feelings  of  deep  re- 
gret at  separation.  Forty  days  we  had  been  together, 
enjoying  the  beauties  of  this  land  and  Switzerland. 
Our  various  dispositions  and  tastes  were  blended  in  a 


DUTCH  ECONOMY  IN  PILE  DRIVING. 


113 


common  admiration  of  the  beautiful ; and  our  perfect 
accord  led  us  to  a fuller  appreciation  of  our  travels. 
Schmidig  and  I left  that  afternoon,  and  returned  to 
Amsterdam  ; they,  to  Paris  and  America. 

We  sallied  forth  after  our  first  pipe — for  one  soon 
gets  in  the  way  of  piping  to  time  in  Holland — and 
started  on  an  excursion  to  Saardam ; first  having  run 
up  and  down  the  wharf,  thrusting  our  noses  into  every 
third  house,  and  perplexing  some  score  of  stupid  Dutch- 
men by  our  patois  of  adapted  German. 

We  succeeded  in  finding  the  office  of  the  steamer 
for  Hamburg,  where  we  took  passage  by  securing 
berths  for  that  port. 

Returning  over  the  delicate  Dutch  tiles,  to  the 
wharf  of  the  Saardam  ferry,  we  waited  patiently,  and 
occupied  our  leisure  by  watching  the  constructive 
economy  of  some  Dutch  pile-drivers,  who  were  floating 
at  work,  on  a very  hazardous  platform  in  the  river,  and 
were  striving  to  shift  a derrick,  so  as  to  bear  upon  the 
object  of  their  labor.  We  could  not  but  be  amused  at 
their  awkward  engineering,  and  ignorance  of  mechan- 
ics, as  they  tugged  with  a shout,  at  the  ends  of  fifty 
ropes,  whilst  they  hallooed  and  grunted  as  the  hammer 
fell,  at  the  loss  of  their  pull  all  together ; but  we  re- 
flected that  innovation  on  these  habits  might  prove  dis- 
astrous to  Dutch  character,  and  that  activity  and  over- 


114 


PETER  THE  GREAT’S  HUT. 


exercise  would  be  derogatory  to  the  unity  and  compla- 
cency of  Oulde  Holland. 


EXCURSION  TO  SAARDAM. 

Our  ferry  started  in  the  midst  of  our  musings.  As 
we  crossed  the  river,  we  had  the  bold  outline  of  the 
city  before  us,  whilst  we  observed  the  numerous  craft 
sailing  over  the  Y,  under  the  influence  of  a strong 
breeze.  The  land  before  us  seemed  wrought  into 
tumultuous  action  under  the  beating  of  so  many  wind- 
mills, here  used  in  every  variety  of  manufacture,  and 
in  which  capital  is  so  universally  employed,  that  they 
have  usurped  even  the  probabilities  of  employing 
steam. 

Saardam,  which  holds  9,000  people,  has  lost  its  im- 
portance for  its  naval  architecture.  It  is  now  cele- 
brated from  the  fact,  that  Peter  the  Great  here  learnt 
the  trade  of  ship  building  in  early  youth.  Whilst 
there,  he  occupied  a small  house  which  is  still  shown 
to  visitors,  and  over  it  the  present  Prince  of  Orange 
erected  a brick  casing,  as  a sort  of  mausoleum  over  the 
memory  of  departed  greatness. 

I was  somewhat  puzzled  to  retrace  my  steps  after 
leaving  this  humble  tenement ; and,  in  my  attempt  to 
walk  through  the  village,  ran  against  some  private 
fences,  and  barely  escaped  drowning  in  some  of  their 


BUCKSLOOT CHEESE  FARM. 


115 


particularly  neat  ditches,  spread  aside  of  the  cross 
lanes.  I found  no  remedy  but  to  return  to  the  only 
direct  and  straight  path,  that  of  order  and  propriety, 
the  main  road,  and  followed  it  afoot,  over  the  dike 
which  runs  indented  with  the  coast  and  forms  a ram- 
part against  the  ingress  of  the  sea.  This  was,  surely, 
that  “ long  way  which  has  no  turns/’  whilst  you  have 
nothing  upon  these  flats  to  relieve  your  sight,  save 
those  unceasingly  flapping  windmills,  and  a glance  at 
the  city  opposite.  At  Bucksloot,  however,  we  hired  a 
carriage  for  Brock,  and  on  the  way  stopped  half  an 
hour  to  examine  a cheese-farm  and  its  outhouses. 
This  dairy  is  not  only  a specimen  but  a type  of  Dutch 
propriety  and  neatness,  beginning  with  that  tidy  young 
maiden  who  refused  a half-crown  and  a kiss  for  show- 
ing us  the  rooms,  and  descending  to  the  last  extreme 
of  the  cows’  tails,  which  are  so  primly  tied  up  with 
ribbons,  and  hung  to  the  ring  in  clear  avoidance  of 
aught  of  taint  or  filth.  These  cows  are  housed  in  win- 
ter, in  the  very  stalls  which  glow  with  an  array  of  the 
plates  and  china  in  summer.  Such  stabling,  we  will 
vouch,  is  not  held  by  the  sacred  ox  at  Cochin.  The 
same  scrupulous  neatness  and  care  ordered  the  interior 
of  the  residence.  Each  room  was  a curiosity-shop,  and 
although  pleasing,  as  characteristic,  appeared  in  very 
bad  taste,  thus  evercharged  with  such  gewgaws  and 
trinkets  as  would  best  suit  baby-houses  with  us. 


116 


STILL  LIFE — DUTCH  UTOPIA. 


BROCK. 

On  arriving  at  Brock,  we  stopped  our  vehicle  at 
the  inn,  outside  the  town ; for  no  wheels  are  allowed 
within  its  sacred  walls ; and  then  walked  to  see  the 
interior.  It  is,  properly,  a very  small  village,  with 
lanes  instead  of  streets ; and  every  house  is  so  con- 
structed, after  the  precise  fancy  of  each  maiden's 
heart,  or  retired  placeman's  fancy,  that  you  might 
almost  infer  the  features  of  each  owner  from  your  out- 
side view  of  their  terrestrial  abode : so  neat  a habita- 
tion is  rare  even  in  Holland.  It  is  a caricature  of 
Dutch  fastidiousness,  and  even  outdoes  the  very 
Dutch.  It  is  intersected  by  diminutive  streets  and 
canals.  The  pavements  are  of  diminutive  brick. 
The  outer  and  inner  court-yards  are  paved  in  mosaic 
of  white  and  black  cobble-stones,  in  faint  devices  of 
hearts,  diamonds,  and  crosses.  The  houses  are  gen- 
erally painted  white ; others  are  tinged  with  delicate 
pea-green,  or  touched  with  the  rose.  The  very  fields 
look  as  if  they  were  occasionally  swept  out  and 
combed.  The  interior  of  their  houses  is  rarely  seen, 
and  the  front  doors  are  only  opened  in  the  event  of  a 
death  or  a marriage.  The  costumes  of  the  people  are 
quite  pretty.  The  women  wear  a singularly  becom- 
ing cap,  with  their  hair  dressed  in  plaits,  and  orna- 


MOONLIGHT DEPARTURE. 


117 


merited  with  filagree  bands  and  rosettes.  Sabots  are 
worn  by  the  lowest  class,  and  outer  shoes  are  always 
left  on  the  sill,  as  they  enter  the  interior  in  stocking 
feet.  Their  whole  existence  is  grotesque.  Their  pe- 
culiarities are  equally  characteristic  as  those  of  the 
Chinese  or  Turks.  Their  public  garden  unites  all  the 
features  of  this  eccentricity,  and  is  the  most  interesting 
spot,  because  it  contains  the  most  absurdities.  As  it  was 
carnival,  the  females  seemed  privileged  to  act  with  more 
freedom  than  usual,  and  the  occasion  gave  us  an  ex- 
cellent opportunity  of  seeing  the  people  at  their  fairs. 

We  hurried  away  at  sunset,  from  the  dikes  and 
ditches,  flats  and  ponds  of  Brock,  and  crossed  the  ferry 
at  Bucksloot  toll-house,  just  as  the  last  rays  of  twilight 
were  stealing  over  the  liquid  Y. 

PASSAGE  OF  THE  NORTH  SEA. 

At  midnight,  we  sailed  out  of  port,  and  left  these 
quiet  Dutchmen  soundly  sleeping  within  the  city,  now 
bathed  with  a rich  flood  of  moonlight,  which  lent  a 
magical  effect  to  the  glowing  spires  of  her  churches, 
as  they  towered  amid  the  frosted  needles  of  ten  thou- 
sand masts. 

“ How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps/'  at  Amsterdam ! 
That  rough  and  boisterous  North  Sea  roused  us  from 
this  “ pale  cast  of  thought ” to  the  stern  realities  of  its 


118 


AMSTERDAM  TO  HAMBURG. 


troubled  waters.  A strong  head  wind,  added  to  its  ordi- 
nary fickleness,  soon  reduced  our  poetic  feelings  to  the 
level  of  human  frailty.  Extreme  debility  and  despera- 
tion marked  the  features  of  our  deck-stretched  passen- 
gers. Our  common  infirmity  left  us  easy  victims  to 
the  revenue  officers,  who  overhauled  and  cleared  us 
in  the  morning ; as  well  as  to  the  steward,  who 
charged  us  with  meals  which  we  could  not  eat.  Our 
company  was  a motley  mixture  of  Poles  and  Russians, 
and  there  was  nothing  to  interest  or  relieve  this  sail, 
until  we  turned  into  the  Elbe,  at  Cuxhaven,  on  the 
second  day. 

This  river  is  quite  wide  at  the  mouth ; but  its  sides 
offer  little  to  attract  notice,  until  within  a few  miles  of 
Hamburg;  where  the  banks  are  bolder,  and  many 
snug  country-seats  remind  you  of  the  vicinity  of  a 
large  city.  We  met  with  some  little  delay  on  landing; 
as  we  had  to  be  removed  in  boats,  on  account  of  the 
low  state  of  the  tide. 


FAT  FELLOW-TRAVELLER. 


119 


HAMBURG. 


Widdronscoff,  my  fat  fellow-pas- 
senger, who  had  quite  won  my  heart 
by  his  kind  application  of  brandy, 
during  the  tempests  of  the  North  Sea, 
and  had  more  than  interested  me,  by 
his  accounts  of  bear  fights  and  travel 
in  the  wilds  of  Russia,  purposed  to 
join  me,  at  lodgings.  Leaving  his 
carriage  in  charge  of  Schmidig,  we 
walked  up  the  “ Wall/’  and  took  rooms  at  Streits\ 
This  Russian  had  three  sterling  points  of  character, 
which  rendered  his  company  quite  agreeable,  during 
my  stay  at  Hamburg.  He  was  too  fat,  not  to  be  good- 
natured,  too  rich  to  be  parsimonious,  and  too  well-bred 
to  be  snobby.  With  him,  Hamburg,  with  its  fine 
views,  handsome  edifices,  and  gay  life,  proved  its 
reputation  of  being  one  of  the  liveliest,  prettiest,  and 
greatest  cities  in  Germany.  To  obtain  a complete 
idea  of  the  beauty  of  its  site  and  its  relation  with  the 
surrounding  country,  you  must  ascend  to  the  gallery 
outside  the  Tower  of  St.  Michaels.  This  city  is 
beautifully  laid  out  with  wide  streets,  and  broad 
canals,  and  has  been  much  improved  since  the  fire  of 
1842. 


120 


PROMENADES DANCING-HOUSES. 


Most  of  the  hotels  lie  near  the  Yungfraustieg,  or 
the  Maidens5  walk,  the  fashionable  promenade  along 
the  banks  of  the  Binnen  Alster,  and  under  your  win- 
dow the  life  of  the  gay  city  is  spread  before  you,  with 
the  brilliant  concourse  at  the  caf6,  and  the  boats  on 
the  basin  beyond. 

In  the  evening,  the  whole  Amster  is  glimmering 
with  the  reflections  of  ten  thousand  lamps,  whilst  notes 
of  stirring  music  reach  the  ear,  coming  from  parties 
of  gay  revellers  on  the  Binnen  : and  the  gay  scenes 
of  the  dancing  halls  of  the  Coliseum  and  Pavillion  give 
you  a view  of  the  amusements  and  diversions  of  the 
grisettes  and  mechanics. 

Out  of  doors  you  are  struck  with  the  neat  costumes 
of  the  Yierlanders,  pretty  peasant  girls,  who  sell 
flowers  and  fruits,  at  every  corner,  and  woo  your 
purses  whilst  you  are  looking  at  their  blue  eyes  and 
pretty  faces  under  the  rims  of  their  broad-rimmed  hats, 
or  are  following  the  lines  of  their  twisted  braids,  which 
droop  over  their  lengthened  waists,  and  are  gathered 
into  the  folds  of  a very  short  petticoat,  but  not  to  pre- 
vent a sight  at  a well-shaped  leg,  or  admiration  of  a 
well-turned  ankle  and  foot.  Then  watch  those  serv- 
ant maids,  who  go  tripping  along  round  the  corner, 
with  their  basket  on  arms,  and  contents  carefully  con- 
cealed or  covered  over  by  a rich  shawl,  thrown  care- 
lessly over  all. 


REITENDEN  DTENER. 


121 


Nor  will  you  fail  to  meet  that  peculiar  class  of  ser- 
vants who  are  hired  out  on  all  occasions  ; and  are 
equally  ready  to  serve  at  pall  or  festival ; Jacks  of  all 
trades,  who  change  their  garbs  with  their  profession. 

These  “Reitenden  Diener  ” form  the  Senate  guard, 
and  assume  no  less  than  five  distinct  costumes  ; on 
horse,  with  sabre  and  carbine,  under  a yellow  riding 
cape ; as  pall-bearers,  in  the  old  style  black  Spanish 
garb  with  round  perukes  ; attending  the  Burgomasters, 
they  wear  blue  with  silver  lace  ; whilst  as  undertakers, 
in  black  frocks  ; and  at  weddings,  they  assume  shorts , 
and  the  powdered  wig  with  rapier. 

Three  of  these  motley  characters  passed,  as  our 
carriage  drove  off  for  the  station  at  Altona,  where  we 
took  our  seats  for  Kiel,  in  Denmark. 


Vierland  Flower-Girl. 


DENMARK. 


KIEL  TO  COPENHAGEN. 

The  country  through  which  the  railroad  passes  is 
very  flat,  the  soil  sandy,  and  admits  of  but  little  culti- 
vation. 

After  taking  our  berths  on  board  the  steamer  for 
Copenhagen,  we  were  struck  with  the  similarity  of  their 
words  of  command  with  the  English  ; for  there  was 
nothing  spoken  but  “ baack  her  99  and  “ stap  her/' 

We  had  a fine  run  that  night,  and  under  the  light 
of  a full  moon,  soon  made  our  way  through  the  Ost 
Sea.  On  the  morrow,  we  were  agreeably  surprised  at 
meeting  Mr.  Flenniken,  our  charg6  at  this  court,  on 
board ; so  that  our  entrance  to  the  harbor  was  en- 
livened by  a pleasant  chat  over  the  beauties  of  the  city, 
which  lay  so  charmingly  in  prospect, 


NORTH  CAPE THORWALDSEN. 


123 


COPENHAGEN. 

Copenhagen  is  built  on  the  islands  of  Seeland  and 
Amack,  which  are  united  by  two  fine  bridges.  Be- 
sides the  remarkably  strong  fortifications  which  defend 
its  coast,  and  its  charming  and  picturesque  location,  it 
has  the  peculiarity  of  having  suffered  more  from  war 
and  conflagration,  than  any  other  city  in  Europe. 

The  day  after  my  arrival,  I had  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  a class-mate,  who  had  just  come  from  the 
North  Cape,  after  having  completed  a tour  of  two 
years  in  the  North  of  Asia  and  Europe.  One  feels 
a sense  of  diminutiveness  on  seeing  a man  who  had 
visited  Siberia,  and  lived  on  fish-skin  and  whale-oil  for 
the  last  four  months ; for  I must  confess,  my  preten- 
sions to  travel  grew  less,  as  I viewed  with  awe  the 
huge  beard  of  my  old  chum,  who  had  ridden  the  great 
polar  bear,  and  cast  a squint  over  the  crater  of  the 
Norwegian  Maelstrom.  In  my  confusion,  I sought 
relief  within  the  chaste  proportions  of  the  “ New 
Kirche,”  the  King’s  Chapel ; and  recovered  proper 
balance  of  mind,  in  the  calm  and  quiet  contemplation 
of  what  was  truly  great  and  beautiful  in  art,  as 
brought  out  and  created  perfect  under  the  inspiration 
of  Thorwaldsen’s  genius.  There  stands  his  Christ, 

and  the  twelve  Apostles,  on  each  side  of  the  nave,  and 
6 


124  CASTLES PALACES. 

behind  the  altar.  Before  it  is  that  beautiful  baptismal 
font,  a simple  shell,  held  by  a kneeling  angel ; and 
over  the  portal,  is  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  exqui- 
sitely touching,  in  marble  bas-relief.  The  spirit  of 
truth,  love  and  devotion  breathes  in  those  mute  blocks ; 
they  animated  his  finer  clay,  who  inhaled  them  at  his 
birth. 

In  an  afternoon  stroll  on  the  ramparts,  our  charge 
introduced  Mrs.  P.,  whose  husband  once  represented 
the  Danish  Court  at  Washington.  We  accompanied 
her  home,  and  there  met  Mr.  P.,  still  in  possession  of 
full  health  and  mental  activity. 

The  view  from  the  parlor,  as  we  looked  out  on  the 
Castle  of  Rossburg  and  its  gardens,  suggested  a visit. 
The  next  day,  we  obtained  admission  by  ticket.  This 
castle  was  built,  it  is  said,  by  Inigo  Jones,  (1604.) 
It  is  an  irregular  brick  building  of  half  Gothic,  half 
Italian  style,  flanked  by  four  unequal  towers,  and  is 
only  remarkable,  beyond  its  antiquity,  for  its  curious 
array  of  old  armor,  costumes,  and  a dilapidated 
Knight’s  lodge.  The  crown  jewels  are  still  preserved 
here,  and  the  grounds,  by  sovereign  grace,  are  used 
daily  by  the  people  as  a public  walk,  whilst  they  are 
much  frequented  on  those  evenings  on  which  the  band 
plays. 

The  Christiansburg  palace,  now  neglected  by  the 
King,  contains  a few  rooms  in  excellent  taste,  among 


LANGE-LINIE CAPTIVE  KING. 


125 


which  the  Hall  of  Justice  is  alone  remarkable.  Here 
also  you  will  seethe  “ Triumph  of  Alexander/5  one 
of  Thorwaldsen’s  best  bas-reliefs. 

Among  the  many  towers  of  the  city,  most  of  which 
are  merely  designed  as  watch-towers,  or  fire  look-outs, 
that  of  the  Observatory  is  most  conspicuous,  and  has 
some  claims  to  antiquity ; and  its  ascent  by  the  winding 
stone-way  is  liberal,  and  gradual  enough  to  admit 
the  passage  and  return  of  a coach  and  four,  a feat  of 
the  whip  which  was  performed  by  the  Czar  of  Russia 
on  a late  visit. 

The  Amalien  Plad,  one  of  the  most  striking  squares, 
which  is  faced  by  four  palaces,  and  ornamented  by 
an  equestrian  statue  of  Frederick  the  Fifth,  made  a 
happy  point  on  our  way  to  the  “ lange-linie,”  a very 
beautiful  walk,  running  between  the  line  of  the  for- 
tifications and  the  shore,  and  commanding  fine  views 
of  the  haven,  shipping,  and  opposite  coast  of  Sweden. 
Our  walk  terminated  in  the  direction  of  the  old  castle 
of  Frederickshaven,  a stronghold  with  a double 
bastion.  Within  its  prison,  an  African  King  was 
confined,  whose  sole  crime  (so  adjudged,  as  he  thought, 
by  force  of  sheer  prejudice  and  bad  taste  in  Denmark) 
was  an  afternoon’s  repast  on  one  of  his  Danish 
majesty’s  colonial  subjects  ; and  he  has  evinced  great 
solicitude  since  his  arrest,  lest  the  King  of  the  Danes 


126 


SAVANS RELICS  OF  THE  NORTHMEN. 


might  apply  the  “lex  talionis,”  and  eat  his  Blackship  in 
return. 

Within  a few  years  past,  the  savans  of  the  North 
of  Europe  have  been  much  engaged  in  inquiries  into 
the  history  of  the  Northmen,  and  in  the  collection 
of  curious  remains  of  the  arts,  usages,  and  language 
of  these  nations,  which  may  lead  to  the  development 
of  their  character  and  customs,  and  tend  to  per- 
petuate their  discoveries.  The  field  of  observation 
embraces  much  of  Norway  and  Sweden,  but  Denmark 
claims  the  privilege  of  locating  the  treasury  of  these 
researches,  from  her  peculiar  forwardness  in  these 
investigations,  and  from  the  testimony  of  numerous 
facts,  which  conclude  this  right  in  her  behalf.  Vast 
numbers  of  relics  have  been  found  on  the  Island  of 
Seeland  ; and  in  the  Christiansburg  Palace,  the  result  of 
these  accumulations  have  been  arranged,  so  as  to 
show  the  progress  of  these  nations  from  the  age  of 
stone ; and  thence  tracing  their  advancement  by  the 
use  of  bone  for  arrowheads  and  fish-hooks,  to  copper 
for  utensils,  and  afterwards  to  gold  for  ornaments, 
have  descended  to  the  working  of  mines  for  iron,  the 
last  period  of  their  prosperity  prior  to  a relapse  oc- 
casioned by  luxury,  and  a subsequent  decline  into 
barbarism  ; from  which  the  first  steps  to  the  establish- 
ment of  Christianity,  and  to  that  increased  civilization 
consequent  upon  its  diffusion,  are  apparent.  This 


THORWALDSEN  TOMB SOCIAL  ETiaUETTE. 


127 


cabinet  has  been  very  carefully  classified  ; and  we 
were  exceedingly  interested  in  a cursory  examination 
of  this  instructive  subject. 

Just  opposite  the  Palace,  the  King  has  erected  a 
large  oblong  building,  designed  for  the  exhibition  of 
Thorwaldsen’s  sculptures  and  basso-relievos.  The  ex- 
ternal walls  are  painted  somewhat  after  the  interior 
of  the  Egyptian  tombs  ; and  within,  a sepulchre  was 
building  to  receive  his  ashes.  The  whole  forms  a 
noble  mausoleum  to  the  memory  of  this  Danish 
sculptor,  and  is  a just  tribute  from  royalty  to  the 
genius  of  one  of  those  subjects  who  make  up  the  glory 
of  a reign. 

No  obtrusive  epitaph  marks  his  monument.  Here 
will  his  works  live  around  him,  to  tell  their  story 
of  his  well  spent  life.  Those  speaking  statues  stand 
as  high  priests  in  the  temple  of  his  fame.  The  spirit 
of  his  genius  breathes  through  those  well-filled  halls, 
and  the  hollow  tomb  resounds  with  the  glory  of  Thor- 
waldsen. 

A pleasant  dinner  at  P.  gave  us  an  insight  into 
Danish  etiquette  at  table.  In  drinking  healths,  it  is 
customary  to  touch  the  glasses,  and  to  pronounce  the 
word  “ scoll,” — a habit  which  dates  back  to  the 
Scandinavians  of  yore,  who  were  wont  to  drink  toasts 
in  the  skulls  of  their  enemies.  After  dinner  the  gentle- 
men retire  with  the  ladies  to  the  saloon,  and  there  is 


128 


SOCIAL  ETiaUETTE. 


a general  shaking  of  hands  with  the  company,  whilst 
a wish  is  expressed  by  the  host,  that  your  dinner  has 
been  agreeable  and  may  do  you  no  harm. 

One  is  charmed  with  their  cordiality  and  simple 
courtesy.  The  Court  regulates  every  social  system  by 
its  plain  and  unostentatious  example,  and  although  one 
of  the  most  brilliant  in  the  north,  does  not  permit  any 
excess  of  indulgence,  or  countenance  luxury  and  ex- 
travagance in  entertainments.  The  King  and  Queen 
dine  at  the  early  hour  of  three.  We  attended  the 
theatre  in  the  evening,  and  were  pleased  with  the  ease 
and  natural  action  of  their  stage ; although  their  taste 
in  selecting  plays  is  too  much  after  the  French  school. 

In  the  plain  old  Palace  of  Charlottenlund,  a few 
miles  from  the  city,  the  Queen  Dowager  has  resided 
since  the  present  succession.  Her  Prussian  prejudices 
have  been  so  strongly  sustained  against  this  dynasty, 
that  she  has  never  allowed  herself  to  set  foot  on 
Danish  soil ; and  in  order  to  keep  up  this  illusion,  she 
has  caused  the  entire  plot  of  her  garden  to  be  filled 
up  with  German  earth.  The  avenues  leading  to  the 
palace  are  laid  out  with  delightful  shade-trees,  and  the 
palace  grounds  are  far  renowned  for  the  views,  and 
the  excellent  taste  which  pervades  their  plan.  Every 
effort  is  made  by  the  king  to  conciliate  and  amuse  the 
people,  in  order  to  keep  them  free  from  politics ; so 


TIVOLI  GARDENS. 


129 


that  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  seems  to  be  one  of  the  pre- 
rogatives of  the  lower  order. 

Among  the  many  pleasant  gardens,  that  of  the  Ti- 
voli, outside  the  gates,  affords  the  best  mode  of  viewing 
the  costumes  of  the  peasants  of  Amack.  Its  band  of 
forty  musicians  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable  in  the 
kingdom,  and  the  grounds  are  covered  with  every  va- 
riety of  diversion  and  pastime  to  entertain  the  vast 
crowds  which  assemble  here  at  evening ; and  every 
variety  of  theatre,  circus,  Russian  railroad,  machine 
paddle-boats,  temple,  menagerie,  and  monkey,  are  em- 
ployed to  keep  alive  and  sustain  the  pleasure-seeking 
tastes  of  the  masses.  Vauxhall  night  is  distinguished 
by  a brilliant  illumination  of  the  grounds  and  edifices, 
and  presents  a splendid  array  of  beauty  and  attraction. 


Amack  Peasant. 


130 


HELSINGOER HAMLET’S  GRAVE. 


There  was  much  taste  displayed  in  the  arrangement 
and  disposition  of  the  starry  hosts  of  colored  lamps, 
and  the  scene  was  one  of  fairy  enchantment. 

He  who  quits  the  city  without  an  excursion  to 
Helsingoer,  has  yet  to  learn  the  truth  of  Hamlet’s 
grave,  and  the  neglect  should  be  visited  by  a sight  of 
the  “ ghost and  no  one  should  fail  to  see  Roskilde, 
where  lie  all  the  entombed  kings  of  Denmark. 

No  one  leaves  Copenhagen,  or  this  people,  without 
deep  regret  at  parting. 


PRUSSIA. 


TO  STETTIN  BY  STEAM. 

We  left  Copenhagen  by  the  evening  steamer,  and 
entered  the  Oder  early  next  morning.  The  scenery 
on  the  Prussian  coast  has  little  to  interest  until  you 
approach  Stettin,  when  it  assumes  a more  picturesque 
aspect  on  the  right  bank.  Stettin,  one  of  the  few  ports 
in  Prussia,  is  a place  of  some  commercial  importance, 
and  its  situation  on  the  Oder,  as  it  rises  prettily  off  its 
banks,  is  quite  pleasing. 

We  spent  but  a short  time  in  viewing  its  strong 
fortresses,  and  those  beautiful  views  of  the  town  and 
of  the  Oder’s  opposite  banks,  wThich  are  to  be  had  from 
the  promenades  outside  the  Berlin  gate. 

In  the  middle  of  the  Parade  Platz,  there  is  a strik- 
ing statue  of  Frederick  the  Second. 

The  road  to  Berlin  passes  over  a flat  and  sterile 
region  of  country,  and  is  part  of  that  vast  sand  plain 
fi* 


132 


BERLIN. 


which  extends  from  the  shores  of  the  Baltic,  and 
stretches  its  length  even  to  the  confines  of  Russia. 

BERLIN. 

At  last  in  Berlin,  one  of  the  most  charming  cities 
in  Europe ! Nothing  can  exceed  the  beauty  of  your 
first  sight  of  Berlin,  taken  from  the  Lust  Garden,  and 
extending  down  the  Unter  den  Linden,  as  far  as  Bran- 
denburg Gate.  No  city  presents  such  glorious  coup- 
d’ceils.  From  your  window  in  the  Hotel  de  Russia, 
what  a view  of  the  Museum  with  its  beautiful  colon- 
nade, and  of  the  chaste  architecture  of  the  Zeughaus, 
is  presented  ! The  old  Palace,  and  that  noble  Dom 
Cupola  is  before  you.  All  these  edifices  face  those 
pleasant  gardens  which  ornament  the  grand  square  of 
the  city ; and  these,  united  with  those  lofty  linden 
trees,  the  Opera  House,  the  Royal  Library,  University, 
hotels  of  the  ambassadors,  and  palaces  of  the  princes, 
combine  to  complete  a panorama  which  is  not  sur- 
passed, even  by  the  “Concorde/’  and  the  Champs 
Elysees,  at  Paris.  The  whole  style  of  their  architec- 
ture so  charms,  that  you  regret  that  they  have  no 
more  solid  material  than  brick  and  stucco,  to  perpet- 
uate the  genius  of  their  immortal  Shinkel.  There  is 
no  end  of  the  attractions  of  this  city,  wherein  you 
revel  among  the  creations  of  a Schadow,  Tieck,  and 


PROPYLCEUM ROYAL  CASTLE. 


133 


Rauch.  Go  through  street  after  street,  and  the  eye  is 
still  pleased  with  something  novel  and  fair.  Visit 
every  quarter,  and  you  will  find  squares  adorned  with 
statues,  and  unique  bridges  suspended  over  the  river. 
Every  public  building  has  something  in  its  proportions 
which  charms  the  eye,  and  its  external  adornment  by 
neat  and  appropriate  ornaments,  sculpture,  and  entab- 
latures, lent  a grace  to  form,  which  gratifies  the  mind 
with  a full  sense  of  satisfaction. 

That  beautiful  car  of  victory  drawn  by  four  horses, 
which  surmounts  the  model  of  the  Propylceum,  stands 
as  a monument  of  Napoleon’s  ravages,  and  marks  its 
restoration  by  Rlucher.  And  near  by  the  Opera 
House  (the  very  beau-ideal  of  scenic  decoration  and 
classic  taste)  is  the  erect  statue  of  that  Prince,  who 
turned  the  day  at  Waterloo. 

You  have  an  exhaustless  fund  of  study  and  virtu 
in  the  rare  collection  of  the  Royal  Museum,  where 
your  time  and  taste  will  be  divided  between  sculpture, 
antiquities,  and  paintings. 

Next  in  interest,  and  surpassing  in  magnificence 
and  luxury  all  the  palaces  of  royalty,  is  the  show  of  the 
Grand  Palace,  or  the  Castle.  In  the  Knight’s  Hall, 
they  point  out  that  huge  silver  orchestra,  which  was 
retaken  from  the  French.  The  decorations  and  plate 
of  the  throne-room  vie  with  the  riches  of  the  Incas  of 
Peru,  where  the  hangings  of  the  walls  are  of  a gold 


134 


ROYAL  RELICS OLD  PIPES. 


and  silver  woof  brocade,  and  the  thrones  of  solid  gold 
and  silver.  That  ball-room  is  the  most  perfect  in  the 
world.  The  effect  of  this  palace  was  pleasing,  because 
there  was  an  evidence  of  good  taste  in  all  the  abun- 
dance of  display  and  rich  material. 

In  a remote  corner  of  this  castle,  and  almost  under 
the  roof,  you  can  discover  the  rooms  which  were  in- 
habited in  the  purer  age  of  Frederick  the  Great,  a king 
who  has  founded  the  greatness  of  this  people,  and  of 
whom  they  are  justly  proud.  Here,  amid  many  re- 
markable relics,  are  his  boots,  spurs,  yellow  plushes, 
and  an  old  cocked  hat,  with  a bullet  hole,  as  worn  on 
the  day  of  battle ; and  by  the  window,  as  you  look  out 
into  the  court  below,  you  will  see  a rack  of  his  old 
pipes,  in  which  he  was  an  amateur.  We  could  not  but 
institute  a parallel  on  the  resemblance  between  this 
Lion  of  Prussia,  and  that  of  France,  which  led  us  into 
a train  of  pleasing  fancies  about  the  virtues  of  tobacco, 
and  the  simple  grandeur  of  two  great  heroes  whose 
calmness  did  never  desert  them  on  the  battle-field,  so 
long  as  they  had  tobacco  to  smoke  or  snuff  to  prize. 

These  and  other  things  go  to  make  up  the  glory  of 
the  Prussian  Empire.  The  present  king  inherits  much 
of  the  shrewdness,  but  little  of  the  prudence  of  his  an- 
cestors. By  the  former,  he  has  contrived  to  make  his 
capitaPthe  centre  of  great  wealth  and  talent ; and  the 
names  of  Savigny,  Humboldt,  Ranke,  Tieck,  and 


SANS  SOUCI THE  MILL. 


135 


Rauch,  have  rendered  his  fame  more  lasting  than  his 
own  personal  worth  merits. 

I walked  out  to  Charlottenburg  to  view  the  grave 
of  the  lamented  Queen  Louisa,  who  died  prematurely, 
and  much  beloved  by  her  subjects.  The  temple  over 
her  body  by  Shinkel,  and  the  statue  in  state  by  Rauch, 
are  beautifully  chaste  productions  of  modern  art,  whilst 
they  are  no  less  simple  and  appropriate  tributes  to  the 
virtues  of  the  dead.  They  are  without  ornament  and 
without  inscription.  Her  sculptured  effigy  lies  there  in 
sweet  repose,  and  the  Prussian  eagle  at  her  feet  alone 
marks  her  descent  from  the  royal  house  of  Brandenburg. 


POTSDAM. 

A quiet  excursion  is  that  to  Potsdam,  the  summer 
residence  of  the  royal  family,  situated  on  a broad  bend 
of  the  Spree.  Its  position  and  aspect  are  more  pleas- 
ing, because  more  varied  than  that  of  the  capital. 
Sans  Souci,  a more  retired  attachment  to  the  palace, 
is  laid  out  in  most  delightful  walks,  terraces  and  foun- 
tains, and  contains  many  rare  works  of  art.  Near  the 
Pavilion  is  a windmill,  which  forms  part  of  the  history 
of  Prussia,  from  the  fact  that  the  miller  refused  to  part 
with  his  possession,  when  the  King  desired  to  enlarge 
his  demesnes.  His  highness  was  rather  pleased  with 
this  instance  of  independence  in  a subject,  and  compli- 


136 


SCL AVONIAN  MINSTRELS. 


merited  the  tenant  by  remarking  that  “ in  Prussia,  the 
rights  of  the  humblest  should  be  respected and  he 
has  since  repaired  and  improved  the  mill  and  settled  a 
pension  on  the  owner. 

It  is  but  a short  drive  from  this  to  the  former  resi- 
dence of  Frederick  the  Great.  This  palace  has  little 
to  interest,  save  its  associations  with  his  greatness. 
There  are  still  his  private  rooms,  pen,  and  table  upon 
which  he  wrote.  The  grounds  of  Charlottenhof  are 
far  more  pleasing,  and  its  miniature  palace  was  built  by 
the  present  King  when  Crown  Prince,  who  has  plan- 
ned his  gardens  somewhat  in  the  English  style,  with  an 
excellent  imitation  of  a Pompaeian  bath. 

Outside  of  Potsdam  gate,  you  pass  a Russian  set- 
tlement, which  has  been  reared  by  a colony  of  Rus- 
sians, who  were  sent  by  the  Czar  as  a present  to  the 
King.  Their  houses  are  constructed  after  their  own 
peculiar  homesteads,  and  they  possessed  no  outlandish 
peculiarity  but  that  of  a fast  conversion  into  Prus- 
sians. 

On  my  way  to  the  railroad,  I met  two  of  these 
Sclavonian  minstrels ; the  girl  was  the  first  beauty  1 
had  met  in  travel,  and  I was  so  fascinated  by  the  cos- 
tume and  minstrelsy  that  I almost  lost  my  return  to 
Berlin  by  the  last  train. 

That  same  evening  I had  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
a number  of  my  countrymen  at  the  Embassy,  where 


AMERICAN  EMBASSY. 


137 


no  American  should  fail  to  go,  so  long  as  our  country 
is  so  ably  represented  by  Donaldson  and  Fay.  I was 
never  more  amused  than  with  our  minister’s  descrip- 
tions of  German  character  and  manners,  which  were 
only  equalled  by  his  sovereign  contempt  for  their  lan- 
guage, or  his  resolute  determination  to  follow  in  the 
footsteps  of  Talleyrand,  and  never  to  commit  his  diplo- 
macy in  any  other  tongue  than  the  vernacular. 

Mr.  Donaldson  has  succeeded  in  gaining  the  admi- 
ration and  esteem  of  the  Court  and  of  his  fellow  diplo- 
matists, solely  from  the  fact  of  his  originality  of  thought 
and  expression,  and  that  wild  and  generous  cordiality 
which  brooks  no  ceremony,  and  puts  all  etiquette  and 
mysticism  at  defiance.  The  great  minds  of  Berlin 
admire  and  wonder  at  one  who  puzzles  them  by  a sys- 
tem of  metaphysics,  even  too  abstruse  for  Kant. 

RIDE  TOWARDS  LEIPSIG. 

Somewhere  about  the  Potsdam  gate  you  get  into 
the  cars  for  Leipsig,  and  when  you  have  weighed  your 
baggage  and  purchased  your  ticket,  you  have  nothing 
to  do  but  take  any  seat  but  that  in  the  first  class,  for 
none  but  princes  and  fools  ride  in  these  sumptuous 
places.  I found  myself  in  company  with  a jolly  En- 
glish clergyman  in  the  second,  and  I know  not  how  I 
broke  the  silence  of  this  man,  except  through  the  in- 


138 


luther's  oak. 


tervention  of  a certain  John  Murray,  whose  red  face 
betrayed  us  both.  I found  him  to  be  chaplain  to  the 
King  of  Hanover,  who  has  a liking  for  English  forms, 
and  was  going  to  Dresden  to  see  the  town  and  buy 
some  china  for  Mrs.  M.  and  the  babies. 

WITTENBURG. 

That  sand  plain  would  have  been  very  sad,  but  for 
this  fortunate  acquaintance  ; and  when  we  rode  by 
Wittenburg,  wTe  had  a common  feeling  of  sympathy, 
as  we  looked  out  on  that  town,  which  was  ennobled  by 
the  life  of  Luther,  and  saw  the  pointed  spire  of  the 
Augustine  cloister,  peeping  above  the  city  where  he 
lived  as  a monk,  and  was  buried  an  apostle. 

It  was  on  these  very  doors  of  the  Schloss  Kirche, 
that  he  pinned  his  ninety-five  denunciations  against 
the  Church  of  Rome,  and  on  the  pavement  before  the 
door,  Luther’s  Oak  marks  the  spot  where  he  burnt  the 
Papal  bull,  and  on  Schadow’s  bronze  rises  his  statue 
aloft,  with  that  simple  inscription, 

“ Ist’s  Gottes  Werk,  so  werd’s  bestehen 
Ist’s  Menschenwerk  werd’s  untergehen.” 

As  you  cross  the  Molder  at  Anhalt  Dessau,  the 
country  assumes  a more  varied  aspect,  and  the  hills 
which  limit  the  distant  horizon  swell  in  abrupt  and  pe- 


ANHALT  DESSAU. 


139 


culiar  outlines.  Our  chaplain  became  quite  conversa- 
tional before  we  reached  Leipsig,  where  we  agreed  to 
spend  a few  hours  together  in  visiting  the  most  curious 
portions  of  this  triple-rivered  city. 


SAXONY. 


LEIPSIG. 

The  outer  city  is  encircled  with  many  pleasant 
gardens,  and  in  one,  the  Gerhard’s  walk,  a simple  stone 
marks  the  bank  of  the  Elsler,  where  noble  Poniatowsky 
was  drowned  ; and  near  by  is  the  bridge  which  wit- 
nessed the  bloody  retreat  of  the  French  army  under 
Napoleon.  We  drove  to  the  grand  market-place, 
where  the  allied  Kings  assembled  after  the  battle,  and 
which  is  one  of  the  most  curiously  antique  squares  in 
Europe.  Not  far  from  the  corner  of  Stadthaus,  you 
descend  into  the  cellar  where  Goethe  tippled  at  beer, 
and  quaffed  inspiration  for  his  Faust  and  Mephisto- 
philes.  Leipsig  was  full  with  the  assembly  for  its  fairs ; 
and  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole  tribe  of  Israel  had  been 
let  loose  upon  its  walks. 

We  left  Leipsig  in  company  with  a Russian  family, 
in  whose  charge  was  a dark-eyed  Polonaise,  who  con- 
tributed much  to  the  gayety  of  our  ride  to  Dresden, 


ELBE  BRIDGE DRESDEN  GALLERY. 


141 


and  especially  whilst  we  were  passing  through  that 
long  tunnel,  which  has  been  worked  in  the  solid  rock 
by  the  miners  of  Freiburg. 


DRESDEN. 

Dresden,  the  royal  residence  of  the  King  of  Saxo- 
ny, lies  in  a woody  valley  over  the  Elbe,  which  divides 
the  old  and  new  city ; the  former  of  which  contains 
all  that  is  remarkable,  and  is  the  richest  in  the  con- 
struction of  its  edifices  and  collections  of  art.  That 
noble  bridge  which  spans  the  Elbe,  is  unsurpassed  in 
strength  and  beauty ; and  that  view  of  the  distant 
mounds  and  grotesquely  formed  rocks  of  the  Saxon 
Switzerland,  is  only  equalled  by  the  prospect  which 
you  have  of  the  passing  life  and  incidents  of  the  Bruhl 
Garden,  whilst  you  are  peacefully  enjoying  the  land- 
scape in  undisturbed  repose  from  the  terrace. 

The  pride  and  boast  of  Dresden  is  its  gallery  of 
paintings,  which  ranks  first  north  of  Italy.  You  might 
wander  months  among  its  treasures,  and  not  exhaust 
its  gems.  In  the  Raphael  Stanza  is  his  Madonna  di 
San  Sisto,  which  ranks  second  only  after  his  Transfig- 
uration ; and  around  it  hang  Correggio’s  “ Night,” 
copies  of  Giulio  Romano,  and  the  Saint  Cecilia  of 
Carlo  Dolci. 

Within  the  other  rooms  are  Guidos,  Domenichi- 


142 


GREEN  VAULTS ZWINGEN  PALACE. 


nos,  Titians,  Murillos,  and  abundant  examples  of 
every  school.  What  a feast  is  here  spread  out ! 
What  a privilege  to  catch  the  inspiration  of  genius  at 
the  very  feet  of  the  greatest  masters ! Here  first  I 
felt  the  living  power  of  art,  and  appreciated  its  rank 
among  its  sister  beatitudes.  The  very  canvas  breathes 
with  the  virtue  of  life,  and  you  are  overcome  by  those 
charms  of  sense  which  crowd  upon  the  enchanted 
vision,  as  you  are  impressed  with  the  feebleness  of 
modern  painting,  contrasted  with  the  works  of  these 
glorious  old  masters. 

Besides  this,  there  are  numerous  other  collections 
in  the  city,  which  are  interesting  in  the  way  of  virtu 
and  curiosity.  The  Green  Vaults  are  probably  the 
richest  in  jewelry,  objects  of  petit  art,  costly  bijoux, 
and  apparel.  You  cannot  but  be  pleased  with  the 
gewgaw  aspect  of  these  extravagant  playthings ; but 
in  the  vicinity  of  so  fine  a gallery,  they  are  too  con- 
temptible for  admiration,  and  rather  suited  for  royal 
babies,  than  for  kings. 

One  of  the  prettiest  buildings  in  the  city  is  the 
Zwingen  Palace,  built  by  August  1st ; and  left  in  its 
present  unfinished  state  of  an  ante-court.  Within  its 
walls  are  several  interesting  cabinets  of  natural  history, 
antiquities,  bronzes,  and  medals,  and  one  of  the  best 
arranged  armories  in  Germany. 

I saw  a representation  of  Oberon  in  the  New 


NEW  THEATRE. 


143 


Theatre,  near  the  angle  of  the  Elbe  bridge,  where  it 
was  produced  in  a style  scarcely  inferior  to  Paris. 
The  decorations  of  the  interior  are  in  good  taste,  and 
the  outer  walls  of  the  edifice  run  in  galleries  and  niches, 
which  are  filled  with  busts  of  Schiller  and  Goethe, 
Moliere,  Shakspeare,  Euripides,  Gluck,  Mozart,  and 
other  worthies,  appropriate  to  its  design.  Near  by 
is  a very  neat  guard-house  by  Shinkel.  In  this  and 
all  other  public  buildings  it  is  gratifying  to  observe  that 
the  talent  of  the  kingdom  meets  a becoming  patronage 
from  the  sovereign,  and  that  true  genius  or  worth  sel- 
dom lives  unrequited  here. 

Tieck  and  Retsch  are  still  residents  of  this  charm- 
ing capital,  which  embraces  a large  circle  of  distin- 
guished literary  men,  and  affords  to  the  true  lover 
of  art,  a greater  field  for  study,  and  the  lover  of  nature 
more  inexhaustible  stores,  than  any  town  in  Germany, 
save  Vienna. 

SAXON  SWITZERLAND. 

Here  I parted  with  my  friend  the  chaplain,  and 
early  next  morning  I took  the  boat  on  the  Elbe,  and 
in  company  with  a crowd  of  Danes,  Germans,  and 
Russians,  started  on  an  excursion  to  the  Saxon  Swit- 
zerland. As  you  approach  the  highlands,  the  banks 
increase  in  boldness  and  picturesque  beauty. 


144 


SANDSTONE  MOUNDS. 


We  landed  at  “Rathen,”  and  here  commenced  the 
ascent  of  the  Bastei,  a high  promontory  rising  perpen- 
dicularly over  the  bed  of  the  river,  and  from  which 
you  watch  its  windings  through  the  rich  plain 
stretched  out  beneath  you  and  rolled  out  like  a carpet, 
until  lost  among  the  distant  headlands  and  outline  of 
Dresden. 

From  that  giddy  height,  the  brain  reels  at  its  supe- 
rior vision  over  that  vast  panorama  of  plain  and 
mountain,  dissolving  in  mist  of  commingled  cloud  and 
sky,  and  only  regains  repose  among  those  singular 
mounds  of  sandstone  which  rise  abruptly  from  the 
plain  and  swell  into  the  form  of  tall  druidical  tumuli, 
or  the  mounds  of  the  lost  sepulchred  nations  of  our 
Indians.  The  undulating  moods  of  landscape  are  of 
unequalled  beauty ; and  no  scenery  can  be  richer, 
however  more  sublime  the  Alps. 

Here  we  found  a guide  to  lead  our  way  through 
the  crazy  maze  of  crag  and  precipice,  and  we  were  in 
full  spirit  to  enjoy  our  walk,  or  listen  to  many  a won- 
drous tale  about  these  legendary  stones  ; and  as  we 
trudged  over  hill  and  dale,  keeping  time  to  the  wild 
snatches  of  German  songs  sung  by  our  leader,  we 
were  wrought  to  a high  pitch  of  enthusiasm  and  dar- 
ing, among  the  strongholds  of  ancient  marauding 
barons. 

Each  one  of  the  sandstone  knolls  forms  a special 


hermit’s  cave — maiden’s  leap.  145 

object  of  visit,  and  interests  from  its  associations  and 
romances. 

High  on  these  rocky  pinnacles,  freebooters’  castles 
were  seated,  like  eagles  in  their  eyries,  ready  to  prey 
on  unsuspecting  peasants,  and  to  seize  their  vessels 
laden  with  the  rich  products  of  the  fertile  Elbe. 

That  picturesque  bridge,  which  hangs  its  slender 
length  over  the  chasms  of  the  Bastei,  leads  to  the  Her- 
mit’s Cavern,  where  the  old  monk  held  his  solitude 
unbroken,  whilst  he  winked  at  the  sins  of  his  lawless 
neighbors,  who  filled  his  larder  with  a share  of  their 
spoils. 

The  Jungfraustein  tells  of  the  maiden’s  fearful  leap, 
and  speaks  of  her  virtue,  who  chose  death  rather  than 
violation.  There,  among  those  hollow  rocks  and 
caves,  witches  and  fairies  are  said  still  to  watch  over 
hidden  treasure ; and  beyond  the  bloody  Thirty  Years’ 
War  was  acted  in  its  fury  and  madness,  when  these 
mountains  were  sought  to  shelter  harmless  peasants, 
and  shield  them  from  oppression  and  assault. 

We  descended  from  that  point  overlooking  the 
“ Devil’s  Den,”  and  taking  the  natural  pathway  of  the 
rock,  reached  the  valley  below,  and  continued  our  jour- 
ney with  unabated  zeal  until  we  stopped  for  dinner  at 
Hohnstein. 

The  best  ideas  of  the  peculiar  character  of  these 
Alps,  are  generally  obtained  from  elevated  spots  which 


146 


KUHSTALL ENDANGERED  KING. 


look  out  over  a vast  extent  of  country.  After  dinner, 
we  took  carriages  and  rode  to  the  Prince's  Stone, 
where  we  obtained  another  of  these  charming  views 
at  sunset;  after  which  we  continued  our  ride,  and 
stopped  not  until  we  came  to  Schandau  on  the  Elbe. 

The  next  morning  we  commenced  our  walk  to  the 
Kuhstall,  a remarkable  opening  in  the  mountain, 
where  the  suspension  of  an  overhanging  rock  forms  a 
cave,  large  enough  to  accommodate  a large  number  of 
cattle ; and  from  its  mouth  you  obtain  a wild  prospect 
over  the  peculiar  features  of  the  Greater  and  Lesser 
Winterburg.  Here,  during  the  war,  the  peasants  drove 
their  cows,  where  its  ample  cavities  afforded  shelter  to 
themselves  and  stock. 

The  road  hence  leads  by  a narrow  path  to  the 
Greater  Winterburg,  an  elevated  point,  which  com- 
mands a wide  and  beautiful  landscape.  Some  three 
hundred  years  ago,  a king  in  pursuit  of  a deer,  missed 
but  a little  of  being  tossed  over  this  precipice  on  the 
horns  of  the  enraged  beast,  and  was  only  saved  by  a 
lucky  arrow  from  his  page,  which  killed  the  stag.  In 
commemoration  of  this  escape,  he  erected  that  spa- 
cious pavilion,  which  is  now  used  by  hunting  parties 
for  their  collations  and  repose. 

The  last  glorious  sight  of  these  Switzerlands  is 
that  of  the  Prebischthor,  where  the  stones  are  so  ar- 
ranged as  to  assume  the  shape  of  a natural  bridge,  and 


PREBISCHTHOR LOWERWITZ. 


147 


from  the  top  of  which  you  command  one  of  the  most 
extensive  panoramas  in  these  regions.  Thence  by  the 
side  of  the  Kamnitz,  you  pass  out  into  the  narrow  val- 
ley of  the  Bielgrund,  and  soon  leave  the  mountains  in 
the  distance. 

The  interest  of  this  district  is  purely  picturesque, 
and  engaging  to  the  artist  and  traveller  alone.  There 
is  little  to  study  in  manners  or  customs,  for  they  are 
wild  and  uninhabited ; and  you  depend  chiefly  on  your 
guides  for  information  and  society.  The  whole  ex- 
cursion is  full  of  objects  for  admiration  and  wonder, 
whilst  your  progress  is  ever  sustained  by  rare  and 
beautiful  emotions.  The  foot  forgets  its  weariness, 
when  the  fancy  roams  abroad,  and  your  imagination 
warms  ardent,  under  present  excitement  of  your  own 
musings,  mingled  with  stirring  tales  of  border-life  and 
warfare.  You  gain,  however,  much  that  is  enduring, 
and  if  invalid,  will  recover,  if  nought  else, 

“ Digestion,  which  waits  on  appetite, 

And  health  on  both.” 

The  beautiful  scenery  of  the  Elbe  continues  with 
increasing  interest  to  Lowerwitz,  where  you  take  the 
Schnellpost  for  Prague. 


7 


BOHEMIA. 


PRAGUE. 

This  glorious  old  capital  lies  on  both  banks  of  the 
Moldau,  and  impresses  you  at  once  as  one  of  the  oldest 
cities  of  Bohemia,  if  not  in  Europe.  It  bears  an  im- 
posing feature  of  antiquity,  whilst  it  strikes  you  as  if 
it  had  stepped  out  of  the  romance  of  the  middle  ages, 
and  spurned  any  taint  from  the  innovations  of  the  pre- 
sent. It  has  nothing  in  common  with  the  mushroom 
origin  of  a modern  city,  and  you  have  a feeling  of  re- 
spect and  veneration  for  its  peculiar  old  palaces,  gro- 
tesque towers,  ornamental  portals,  and  fantastic  carya- 
tides, which  bend  under  the  massive  weight  of  gigantic 
structure.  That  noble  bridge  which  crosses  the  Mol- 
dau  is  charged  with  all  the  saints  in  Christendom,  and 
no  prodigy  of  human  art  can  rival  those  huge  castles 
which  hang  toppling  over  the  brink  of  the  Hradschin. 
The  old  walls  of  the  neighboring  citadel  thunder  with 


AUSTRIAN  TROOPS. 


14 


the  fame  of  the  Thirty  Years’  War  and  Wallenstein, 
and  yon  tower,  which  points  aloft  over  the  many  tem- 
ples of  the  faithful,  looms  fearfully  with  the  world- 
spread  influence  of  Tycho  Brahe.  What  prospect 
can  surpass  that  from  the  high  walls  of  the  palace  ter- 
race, whence  you  look  far  down  over  the  meandering  i 
of  the  Moldau,  as  it  winds  around  the  outer  walls  of 
the  city,  and  is  lost  in  the  mountains  of  Bohemia ! 

I rejoined  Melcthal  at  the  “ Scharzes  Ross,”  who 
had  left  me  at  Berlin,  and  started  on  before  me  with  a 
friend  from  Denmark.  On  that  afternoon,  we  took  our 
seats  in  the  post  for  Waldmunchen,  and  woke  up  in  the 
morning  at  the  curious  old  town  of  Pilsen.  The  whole 
road  thither  was  lined  with  straggling  groups  of  Aus- 
trian soldiery,  who  were  nominally  on  their  way  to 
Mayence,  on  the  Rhine ; but  at  the  present  state  of 
the  war  in  Italy,  were  doubtless  detailed  to  fill  the  fron- 
tier posts.  Here  you  may  see  Wallenstein’s  former 
residence,  and  many  curious  traces  of  its  siege  during 
“The  Thirty  Years’  War.”  The  country  which  lies 
between  it  and  Waldmunchen  has  scarcely  any  thing 
peculiar,  except  it  be  that  the  farms  wear  an  aspect  of 
more  careful  culture  than  is  usual  in  the  upper  regions 
of  Bohemia.  While  we  were  awaiting  dinner  at  Bis- 
chofteinitz,  we  had  leisure  to  look  at  this  quaint  old 
town,  where,  as  it  happened  on  market  day,  there  was 
a gathering  of  the  peasantry  at  the  fairs.  The  large 


150 


BOHEMIAN  PEASANTRY. 


square  wore  a lively  and  gay  appearance,  with  its 
booths  spread  over  the  various  goods  exposed  for  sale, 
and  was  animated  by  the  presence  of  as  hearty  and 
robust  a people  as  could  be  met  in  Bohemia.  The 
men,  who  wore  broad-brimmed  black  hats  and  shorts, 
were  not  unlike  our  Shakers  in  solemnity  of  mien  and 
walk  ; and  all  the  women  sported  head-dresses,  some 
of  which  were  highly  ornamented  ; whilst  a shawl  or 
white  kerchief,  neatly  pinned  under  the  chin,  decked 
the  heads  of  many,  and  gave  to  the  old  a nunnish  look 
and  to  the  young  an  air  of  coquetry.  You  could  de- 
tect the  wife,  by  a high  padded  hump,  that  protruded 
like  a wart  in  front,  which  they  hang  out  as  a sort 
of  sign,  to  prevent  mistakes,  which  might  sometimes 
arise  among  the  married  and  unmarried  ladies,  who  ap- 
peared more  like  walking  bundles  of  cloth  than  human 
beings. 

About  sunset  we  passed  Klentch,  where  you  com- 
mence the  ascent  of  one  of  the  highest  hills  of  Bohe- 
mia, arid  from  its  top  we  enjoyed  a grand  view  of  the 
distant  plains,  and  of  the  vast  forest  of  Bohmer. 
Waldmunchen  is  the  first  town  you  pass  on  the  con- 
fines of  Bavaria.  Here  we  submitted  to  a change  of 
coach  and  examination  of  baggage,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded during  the  night  to  Ratisbon. 


BAVARIA. 


RATISBON. 

We  arrived  quite  early  in  the  morning  at  this 
Castra  Regina  ” of  the  Romans,  one  of  the  most 
ancient  of  German  cities,  situated  near  the  union  of 
the  Danube  with  the  Regen,  whence  its  present  name 
of  Regensburg.  Its  bridge  of  1000  feet,  which  con- 
nects Hof  with  the  other  side  of  the  Danube,  is  a 
master  work  of  the  twelfth  century ; and  none  other 
would  have  stood  the  turbid  and  furious  action  of  that 
rapid  and  wild  river.  The  narrow  and  irregular 
streets  show  its  Latin  origin,  whilst  a few  of  the  old- 
est houses  still  serve  as  watchtowers  in  part  of  the 
present  fortifications. 

There  is  an  old  tower  which  strikes  you  as  you 
pass  the  bridge,  from  the  flaring  colors  of  its  huge 
fresco  of  Goliath’s  death  by  David,  and  about  town 
numerous  others,  equally  well  painted  and  curious. 


152 


OUTER  FRESCOES WALHALLA. 


The  very  hotel,  the  “ Kreutz,”  in  which  we  lodged, 
had  its  historical  associations,  and  was  once  the  resi- 
dence of  Charles  the  Fifth  ; the  scene  of  his  loves  with 
Barbara,  and  the  birth-place  of  their  son,  the  renowned 
John  of  Austria.  And  many  of  the  houses  still  bear 
the  Eagle,  the  Lion  of  Saint  Mark,  and  other  shields 
which  marked  the  residence  of  the  foreign  ambassa- 
dors in  the  days  of  its  ancient  court.  There  are  few 
so  striking  and  beautifully  chaste  cathedrals  as  its  St. 
Peter’s. 

In  the  vicinity  of  Donaustauf  is  the  celebrated 
Walhalla,  dedicated  to  the  illustrious  dead  of  “ Germa- 
ny entire.”  This  Pantheon  is  situated  on  an  elevated 
mountain,  high  above  the  Danube,  wThence  it  is  con- 
spicuous for  many  miles.  Its  model  was  furnished  by 
the  Pantheon  and  other  celebrated  temples  of  antiqui- 
ty. Rauch  and  Schwanthaler  have  lent  their  genius 
to  the  ornamental  friezes  of  the  front,  and  within,  ar- 
ranged against  and  in  relief  with  its  beautiful  scalliola 
walls,  are  busts  of  all  the  renowned  and  great,  in  the 
Imperial  Fatherland. 

MUNICH. 

We  left  Ratisbon  the  next  day  at  noon,  and  arrived 
at  Munich  in  the  morning.  This  capital  of  Bavaria 
lies  on  the  banks  of  the  Iser,  in  the  middle  of  a sterile 


DOTARD  LOVER SPANISH  DANSEUSE. 


153 


plain,  and  has  the  high  elevation  of  1571  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.  The  number  of  its  palaces,  col- 
lections of  art,  galleries  of  paintings  and  sculpture,  li- 
braries, and  gardens,  render  it  one  of  the  most  delight- 
ful cities  in  Europe ; and  all  owing  to  the  energy,  good 
taste,  and  talent  of  Ludwig  the  First,  the  same  old 
man  who  went  crazy  after  a Spanish  danseuse,  whom 
he  removed  from  the  stage,  and  surrounded  with  all 
the  honors  and  immunities  of  the  Countess  of  Lands- 
feld.  He  is,  nevertheless,  a person  of  no  mean  pre- 
tensions, and  unites  in  himself  the  various  attributes 
of  scholar,  painter,  poet,  and  musician.  These  rare 
virtues  have  fitted  him  to  raise  his  capital  out  of  the 
slumbering  ashes  of  decay,  and  to  renew  the  greatness 
of  an  empire  whose  first  kings  date  from  the  age  of 
the  Romans.  He  has  done  infinitely  more  good  in 
raising  Munich  to  one  of  the  most  entertaining  cities 
of  the  Continent,  than  the  mischief  wrought  in  his 
amours  with  Lola  Montes  ; aye,  through  the  fascina- 
tion of  her  dark  eyes  and  winning  influence,  she  has 
caused  him  to  throw  off  his  grovelling  superstitions, 
and  to  correct  the  hitherto  too  powerful  dominion  of 
the  Jesuit  party  in  his  kingdom.  This  beautiful  siren 
is  of  Irish  and  Spanish  blood,  and  in  her  portraits  you 
can  trace  the  influence  of  the  sunny  skies  and  melting 
moods  of  Andalusia. 

Embellished  and  adorned  with  all  these  improve- 


154 


GLASS  WARE BRONZE  CASTINGS. 


ments,  Munich  has  lost  much  of  its  former  aspect,  so 
that  it  is  only  in  the  old  town  that  you  discover  its 
curious  monuments,  in  her  churches  and  antique 
towers.  The  choicest  modern  buildings  are  about  the 
New  Palace,  the  Odeon  Place  and  Ludwig  Strasse, 
whilst  by  far  the  most  interesting  galleries  are  the 
Glyptoteck  (for  sculpture)  and  the  Pinakoteck  (for 
paintings). 

The  new  Basilic  is  one  of  the  richest  specimens  of 
the  Byzantine  style  in  Europe,  and  is  but  one  of  the 
six  churches  built  by  Louis  the  First.  The  others  are 
in  the  Gothic  and  Italian  order,  but  are  generally  too 
gay  and  gaudy  to 'be  thought  in  good  taste. 

The  King  employs  much  of  his  time  in  devising 
new  plans  for  the  adornment  of  the  city,  and  no  less 
than  six  hundred  artists  were  then  collected  in  the 
town,  who  were  sustained  by  royal  patronage  and  that 
taste  for  art,  which  has  been  diffused  in  this  capital  by 
imitation  of  the  King’s  example. 

The  art  of  painting  on  glass  has  been  revived  here, 
and  almost  perfected,  so  as  to  equal  the  antique.  Bo- 
hemian glass  ware  and  porcelain  are  made  in  better 
taste  than  in  Berlin. 

I was  much  interested  in  visiting  the  great  foundry, 
and  in  viewing  the  process  of  moulding,  preparatory 
to  casting  their  large  bronzes.  Lying  about  the  ground 
were  parts  of  the  unfinished  colossal  statue  of  Bavaria, 


UNIVERSAL  GERMAN  MANNERS. 


155 


which  is  to  be  fifty-four  feet  high  above  the  pedestal, 
and  will  stand  before  the  front  of  the  Ruhmeshalle, 
which  is  intended  as  a second  Walhalla,  to  the  memory 
of  the  illustrious  dead  of  Bavaria. 

Munich  is  especially  noted  for  its  beer.  In  other 
respects  Bavaria  is  like  the  rest  of  Germany.  The 
language  is  the  same,  and  (save  the  peasants)  they 
wear  the  habits  of  other  civilized  people.  In  their 
amusements,  they  are  not  so  refined  as  the  French, 
and  have  a grosser  sense  of  pleasures.  Give  a Ger- 
man boor  pipes  and  plenty  of  beer,  his  frau,  waltzing, 
and  music,  and  they  will  remain  ever  satisfied  and 
content  to  eat  krout  and  paprika  the  rest  of  their  lives, 
and  to  sleep  in  a bed  as  narrow  as  a meal  box,  without 
any  other  coverlet  than  an  uncertain  and  fickle  feather 
bed,  which  is  very  apt  to  leave  you  to  your  shivering 
fancies  before  morning,  unless  you  should  imitate  an- 
other of  their  peculiarities,  which  is  to  go  to  bed  with 
your  clothes  on. 

AUGSBURG. 

In  company  with  a few  Americans,  we  left  Munich 
by  railroad  to  visit  Augsburg ; and  from  the  station, 
walked  into  town  through  the  lofty  gateway  of  this 
quaint  old  city.  It  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  curi- 
ous places  in  Bavaria.  You  will  surely  put  up  at  the 


156 


MIDDLE  AGE  EDIFICES. 


“ Drei  Mohren”  ( Three  Moors),  that  grand  old  tavern, 
which  dates  back  some  five  hundred  years  in  the  same 
family;  and  while  you  are  looking  through  the  hall,  in 
which  Anthony  Fugger,  the  richest  burgher  of  his  day, 
feasted  Charles  the  Fifth,  do  not  forget  to  call  for  a 
good  bottle  of  his  ripe  Falernian,  which  he  left  behind 
in  the  cellar,  and  drink  the  health  of  that  jolly  old 
covy,  who  was  so  tickled  by  a visit  from  his  majesty, 
that  he  burnt  his  bonds  and  cancelled  his  sovereign’s 
obligations  over  the  grate. 

Its  very  origin  and  name  springs  from  the  Romans 
under  Augustus,  whose  statue  stands  in  the  Ludwigs 
Platze.  It  was  a powerful  and  flourishing  town  in  the 
year  1200,  when  it  attained  the  height  of  its  glory,  as 
the  grand  central  emporium  of  trade,  from  the  Levant, 
Italy,  and  the  Netherlands. 

It  was  by  commerce  that  these  old  burghers  be- 
came so  rich  and  powerful,  and  their  cash  boxes 
became  winning  through  their  daughters,  as  you  learn 
from  the  marriage  of  that  old  brute  Ferdinand  with 
Phillipena  Welser,  the  most  beautiful  woman  of  her 
time. 

Then  it  has  so  many  old  houses  and  towers  which 
are  remarkable,  and  so  literally  covered  with  frescoes 
are  the  walls,  that  you  would  infer  that  they  had  emp- 
tied their  galleries  in  the  streets  without.  The  Dome 
is  a rich  old  specimen  of  the  Gothic  style,  based  on 


TYROLESE  SCENERY. 


157 


foundation  of  a Roman  Basilica,  and  struggled  through 
its  existence  from  the  tenth  to  the  fifteenth  century. 

But  its  Rathhaus,  or  old  City  Hall,  is  one  qf  the 
most  noticeable  constructions  of  the  kind  in  Germany, 
in  the  richest  Italian  style,  and  its  grand  hall  is  the 
largest  room  in  the  world  which  sustains  so  heavy  a 
medallion-roof  ceiling  without  the  additional  support 
of  pillars. 

The  only  wide  street,  the  Maximillian,  is  one  of 
the  finest  in  Germany,  and  has  three  as  graceful  foun- 
tains as  can  be  seen  north  of  Italy.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  Nuremburg  there  are  few  towns  so  worthy  of 
a visit  as  this  ; and  no  one  leaves  Augsburg  without 
gathering  rich  material  for  the  subjects  of  his  future 
thoughts  and  musings. 

OVER  THE  BORDER  TO  TYROL. 

I left  Munich  by  poste-wagen,  a vehicle  somewhat 
resembling  a diligence,  and  found  myself  in  the  agree- 
able society  of  an  old  French  physician  and  his  niece. 
He  had  served  in  the  campaigns  of  Italy,  and  was  con- 
versant with  all  those  stirring  events  which  took  place 
in  the  early  part  of  this  century,  and  was  then  retiring 
from  the  toils  of  camp  and  court,  to  spend  the  rest  of 
his  days  among  his  relatives  in  Tyrol.  The  first  part 
of  this  journey  furnished  little  attractive  or  charming ; 


158 


TEGERSEE BATHS  OF  KREUTH. 


and  until  the  second  relay  your  route  runs  through  a 
monotonous  country,  with  no  other  feature  for  relief 
except  the  traces  of  an  ancient  Roman  wall. 

Your  interest  returns  on  approaching  the  Bavarian 
Alps  on  the  frontier,  whose  beauty  of  outline  affords 
an  endless  succession  of  pleasing  views  and  delightful 
landscapes. 

We  arrived  about  noon  at  Tegersee.  You  can 
scarcely  imagine  a prettier  spot  or  more  charming  lake 
scenery.  The  landscape  was  glowing  with  all  the 
richness  of  a golden  sunshine ; and  the  varied  tints  of 
the  autumnal  foliage  contrasted  gloriously  with  the 
snow-clad  hills  of  Tyrol.  The  neatly  kept  cottages  of 
the  peasants,  decking  the  margin  of  the  lake,  added  to 
the  careful  cultivation  of  their  farms,  lent  a charm  to 
the  scene,  which  claims  for  the  Tyrolese  a more  genial 
sympathy,  than  the  rugged  nature  of  the  Swiss.  The 
bright  vivid  waters  of  these  lakes  are  greatly  heighten- 
ed by  the  shadows  of  their  overhanging  barriers,  and 
the  mountains  covered  with  snow  at  their  summit,  are 
richly  plumed  with  dark  masses  of  fir  and  pines,  even 
to  the  water’s  edge. 

Finding  no  conveyance  at  hand,  I walked  on  to  the 
Baths  of  Kreuth,  which  are  much  resorted  to  by  the 
Munichers  in  summer  ; but  at  this  season  were  quite 
deserted.  There  is  no  solitude  which  affects  so 
strangely  as  that  of  an  abandoned  watering-place,  and 


ACHERNSEE. 


159 


I was  there  alone  to  enjoy  the  full  sublimity  of  that 
glorious  scenery.  These  baths  are  beautifully  situated 
on  a narrow  plain  which  is  hemmed  in  by  an  amphi- 
theatre of  elevated  mountains.  The  dreariness  of  that 
spot  and  my  own  loneliness  sank  upon  me  with  an  op- 
pressive weight,  and  overcame  me  with  increased  won- 
der. As  I looked  on  my  dwarf  attendant,  who  after- 
wards waited  upon  me  at  the  inn,  it  seemed  as  if  nature 
alone  reigned  there  in  absolute  majesty,  and  pointed  to 
the  insignificance  of  man. 

Beyond  this,  the  character  of  the  scenery  is  wilder, 
and  approaches  the  Alps  in  the  characteristics  of  sub- 
limity and  grandeur. 

The  valleys  which  lie  ensconced  among  the  moun- 
tains of  Tyrol  are  often  very  picturesque,  and  that 
bird’s-eye  view  which  you  catch  of  their  villages  on  the 
distant  plains,  as  you  descend  the  hill  sides  into  the 
vales,  is  unique  and  peculiar  to  this  region. 

The  stell-wagen,  a sort  of  omnibus,  is  the  only  ve- 
hicle adapted  to  these  districts ; you  must  sit  outside 
with  the  conductor  to  enjoy  the  country ; and  though 
it  may  be  cold,  you  will  find  it  preferable  to  the  smoke 
of  twelve  puffing  Germans,  who  always  travel  with  the 
windows  closed. 

The  Achernsee,  the  next  in  order,  is  truly  beautiful, 
and  unites  the  grandeur  of  the  Alps  with  the  gentler 
beauty  of  lake  scenery.  It  differs  from  the  greater 


160 


SCHWARTZ HAL. 


waters  of  Lucerne  and  Zurich,  in  the  softer  tones  of 
lights  and  shadows,  and  in  the  lesser  harshness  of  con- 
trasted effects.  There  is  more  repose,  and  the  proper- 
ties of  its  beauties  are  better  balanced.  They  differ 
from  the  Swiss  in  the  abundance  of  their  woodland 
shores,  and  the  excellent  state  of  their  banks  where  the 
land  allows  of  cultivation.  The  cotters’  huts  seem 
neater,  and  their  peasants  more  contented  and  cheerful. 
Tyrol  answers  one’s  expectations ; the  Switzerlands  do 
not  always.  Their  Alps  are  often  gloomy,  sterile,  and 
cheerless ; and  those  Swiss  cottages  of  fancied  beauty 
are  sometimes  worse  than  hovels. 

This  whole  route  abounds  with  delightful  prospects, 
especially  the  latter  portion  of  the  road  on  descending 
by  the  valley  of  the  Inn  to  Schwartz,,  the  approach  to 
which  is  unrivalled,  and  may  be  compared  with  any 
view  in  the  plain  of  Chamounix. 

You  run  on  in  the  same  vein  of  beauty  until  you 
descend  to  Hal,  the  sight  of  which  is  highly  picturesque, 
from  its  overhanging  hill ; and  it  is  thus  that  the  city 
of  Innspruch  is  presented,  as  it  lies  so  charmingly  within 
the  compass  of  its  encircling  mountains,  when  you  catch 
your  first  view  of  its  situation  on  the  Inn,  through  the 
gap  of  one  of  the  mountain  passes. 


TOMB  OF  MAXIMILLIAN. 


161 


INNSPRUCH. 

There  are  few  such  striking  positions  for  a city ; 
and  there  is  a rare  beauty  in  that  outstretched  land- 
scape, which  you  command  from  the  old  wooden 
bridge  which  spans  the  Inn,  and  gives  its  name  to  this 
capital.  Its  own  immediate  hills  impend  so  abruptly 
over,  that  they  seem  to  threaten  its  safety,  and  ever 
appear  ready  to  fall  and  crush  its  houses  ; — they  close 
so  near,  that  a writer  states,  “ the  wolves  prowling  in 
their  forests  look  down  into  the  streets  of  the  city.5' 

Besides  its  beautiful  situation  and  its  edifices,  which 
are  built  in  the  Italian  style,  its  chief  attraction  is  the 
rich  and  elaborately  wrought  monument  of  the  Emperor 
Maximillian  in  the  Franciscan  Church.  On  the  top  of 
this  marble  sarcophagus  kneels  the  Emperor,  in  bronze, 
surrounded  by  twenty-eight  colossal  statues  of  princes 
of  the  House  of  Hapsburg  or  some  of  the  reigning 
monarchs  of  that  epoch ; which  are  so  exquisitely 
drawn,  that  they  are  prized  as  historical  portraits  of 
each  individual,  and  illustrate  the  court  costumes  of 
that  period.  The  side-panels  of  the  tomb  are  sculp- 
tured in  twenty-four  beautiful  bas-reliefs,  depicting 
some  of  the  most  remarkable  acts  of  the  king,  and  are 
so  highly  executed  that  they  furnish  studies  to  the 
artist  of  the  present  day.  Those  which  are  most  per- 


162 


THE  GOLDEN  ROOF. 


feet  are  the  work  of  Collin,  one  of  the  most  celebrated 
sculptors  of  his  time. 

Near  by,  in  the  old  town,  is  that  curious  old  porch 
“of  the  golden  roof.”  It  was  erected,  or  rather  at- 
tached, before  the  portal  of  an  old  house,  by  one  Fred- 
erick, “ ycleped”  of  the  empty  purse,  and  was  designed 
by  him,  in  the  extravagance  of  his  folly,  to  show  his 
townsfolks  that  he  was  not  so  penniless  as  they 
thought.  It  is  not  said  that  they  were  more  con- 
vinced, after  this  excess  of  ornament  and  over-gilded 
copper  work ; for  they  laughed  at  his  folly  while  he 
lived,  and  have  handed  him  down  to  posterity  as  lack- 
ing in  brains  as  well  as  pocket. 

Maria  Theresa  is  also  historically  connected  with 
this  town,  and  one  of  the  gates  of  the  city  erected  by 
her,  as  a “ triumphal  arch,”  still  stands  an  evidence  of 
bad  taste  and  excess  of  ornament. 

Nearly  all  these  Tyrolese  towns  are  rich  in  histori- 
cal associations.  Here  was  the  residence  of  Maxi- 
millian  the  Great,  more  lately  the  seat  of  “ Napoleon’s 
battles,”  and  still  to  this  day  rears  a noble  race  of 
mountaineers,  the  hardiest  and  most  loyal  subjects  of 
the  Austrian  empire. 

From  Innspruch,  I returned  back  to  Schwartz,  the 
residence  of  the  Rainer  family,  whose  reputation  as 
singers  is  well  established  at  home.  On  my  way  to 
Salzburg,  I was  joined  by  a pleasant  family  of  Rus- 


ZILLERTHAL FUGEN. 


163 


sians,  and  accompanied  by  one  of  the  party  in  a short 
excursion  to  the  Zillerthal,  one  of  the  most  romantic 
villages  in  Tyrol. 

This  charming  country  is  best  enjoyed  by  the  pe- 
destrian, as  that  mode  of  travel  affords  abundant  leis- 
ure to  examine  the  charms  of  these  Tyrolese  peasants, 
whose  habits  of  life  are  peculiar,  and  can  only  be  pro- 
perly appreciated  by  a sojourn  among  them.  This 
people  possess  that  simplicity  of  character,  which  is 
only  found  pure  among  these  remote  valleys.  It  is  a 
singular  trait  of  their  honesty  and  fair  dealing,  that  a 
traveller  need  not  ask  the  price  of  his  lodging  or  food 
beforehand ; and  you  can  put  up  at  any  of  their  inns, 
in  perfect  confidence  that  their  charges  will  be  just. 
Among  these  regions  they  retain  their  pretty  costumes 
and  all  the  traits  of  a truly  pastoral  life.  At  Fugen 
we  called  on  two  of  the  Rainers,  and  were  entertained 
by  a song  in  true  Tyrolean  harmony.  Nearly  all  the 
peasants  are  songsters  from  their  childhood,  and  their 
singular  yoddle  is  but  the  prolongation  of  those  re- 
sponses which  are  echoed  back  through  these  valleys 
by  shepherds  attending  their  herds  on  the  hills,  and 
when  driving  their  flocks  of  goats  to  and  from  pasture, 
at  morning  and  evening.  We  returned  to  the  post-road 
to  meet  our  friends  who  had  preceded  us,  during  this 
digression,  and  together  we  continued  on  that  night  as 
far  as  Rattenburg. 


164 


SALZBURG. 


There  is  little  difficulty  in  obtaining  post  carriages 
in  this  part  of  Austria,  as  there  are  regular  stell-wagens 
which  run  from  town  to  town.  If  your  party  is  large 
they  will  always  grant  an  extra  post.  You  have  to 
put  up  with  some  slight  inconvenience  at  their  inns, 
and  must  not  be  alarmed  at  the  neighing  of  your  ani- 
mals, which  are  usually  lodged  under  you  in  the  same 
house. 

The  next  morning  we  resumed  our  journey  towards 
Salzburg;  and  on  the  route  between  St.  Johann  and 
Waldrengen,  you  travel  through  a region  abounding 
with  every  species  of  mineral,  and  by  the  side  of  some 
of  the  most  productive  salt  mines  in  Germany. 

The  scenery  of  certain  portions  of  this  ride  is 
highly  picturesque,  and  occasionally  you  pass  through 
wild  and  grand  mountain  defiles,  which  are  as  striking- 
ly sublime  and  attractive  as  any  to  be  met  in  the  Alps 
or  Tyrol. 

SALZBURG. 

In  a charming  position  on  the  turbid  Salz,  which 
divides  the  city  in  two,  and  surrounded  on  three  sides 
by  mountains,  lies  the  beautiful  capital  of  Salzburg. 

The  city  proper  is  snugly  lodged  in  a valley,  be- 
tween the  Monksberg  and  the  Capuchiner,  from  whose 
tops  you  have  a glorious  view  of  its  surrounding 


FEUDAL  CASTLE BERCHTES-GARTEN.  165 

beauties.  That  stern  old  castle  in  the  upper  town, 
perched  on  the  very  summit  of  an  abrupt  mountain, 
dominates  the  town  and  its  extensive  environs  ; and 
the  views  you  have  from  the  outer  galleries  of  this 
irregular  fortress  are  truly  wonderful.  That  old  castle 
in  the  middle  ages,  was  the  seat  of  a warrior  Arch- 
bishop, who  belonged,  verily,  to  the  Church  militant, 
and  kept  his  bands  of  armed  retainers  ever  ready  to 
wage  war  on  infidels,  or  if  necessary,  to  bring  his  re- 
bellious parishioners  to  terms. 

That  fine  Cathedral,  with  its  facing  of  marble,  was 
built  after  the  model  of  St.  Peter’s ; and  in  the  square 
before  the  Court  House,  is  one  of  those  rare  composi- 
tions in  the  shape  of  fountains,  which  would  do  honor 
to  the  best  of  Italy,  so  exquisite  is  its  design. 

Mozart  was  born  in  this  town,  and  his  statue  stands 
on  a place  called  especially  after  his  name  ; whilst  not 
far  off,  in  another  street,  is  the  mansion  of  the  renowned 
naturalist  Paracelsus. 

One  of  the  most  agreeable  excursions  in  the  vi- 
cinity, is  that  to  Berchtes-garten.  Soon  after  leaving 
town,  your  road  passes  under  the  brow  of  the  Unter- 
burgs,  which  is  famed  for  its  statuary  marble,  and  con- 
tinues on  the  side  of  the  river  Arles  to  Berchtes-garten, 
the  summer  residence  of  the  King  of  Bavaria,  which 
is  beautifully  lodged  at  the  foot  of  the  snow-clad  Wattz- 


man. 


166 


KOENIG  SEA. 


You  can  scarcely  imagine  a more  charming  suc- 
cession of  landscapes  than  those  thus  presented  ; so  full 
of  pictorial  subjects,  such  outlines  of  noble  mountains, 
so  powerful  to  awake  the  most  fervent  and  thrilling 
sensations  of  loveliness  and  beauty,  and  so  happily  ter- 
minated by  the  bold  shore  of  the  “ Koenig  Sea/’  the 
most  beautiful  point  in  all  this  rich  and  glowing 
scenery.  Grand  are  its  effects,  as  it  is  hemmed  in  by 
high  towering  cliffs,  which  brood  over  its  surface,  and 
give  to  its  waves  a tone  of  pleasing  melancholy.  Its 
waters  are  of  the  darkest  green,  and  where  the  over- 
hanging rocks  overshadow  its  lake,  their  color  is  almost 
black.  At  times,  the  hills  slope  down  covered  with 
foliage  of  dark  pines  to  its  edge,  and  again  at  the  sud- 
den turns  of  the  lake,  bold  perpendicular  walls  rise  so 
abruptly  from  its  level  as  to  leave  no  margin,  and 
you  seem  as  if  shut  in  at  the  bottom  of  a basaltic 
well. 

The  royal  hunting  lodge  lies  at  the  base  of  the 
frowning  Wattzman,  and  is  resorted  to  for  the  chamois, 
and  for  its  trout.  Some  of  these  fishes  are  so  remarka- 
ble, that  their  portraits  are  taken  and  hungup  in  frames 
round  the  walls  of  this  palace. 

Such  are  the  natural  beauties  of  this  singular  sea, 
and  with  such  rich  materials,  it  would  require  no 
strain  of  fancy  to  transform  that  blue-eyed  girl  who 


KOENIG  SEA. 


167 


rows  you  over,  into  another  “Lady  of  the  Lake/’  or 
to  frame  a heroine  out  of  the  charming  little  “ Kell- 
nerin”  who  waits  on  you,  on  your  return  to  the  village 
inn. 


AUSTRIA. 

That  afternoon  I hired  a wagon  and  left  for  Ischl 
by  way  of  Hof.  Although  the  first  part  of  this  jour- 
ney was  very  hilly,  it  gave  some  rich  landscapes  over 
the  surrounding  country.  At  Hof  we  stopped  just 
long  enough  to  view  the  village  and  its  pretty  position, 
before  the  distant  mountains  of  Scharfburg.  Thence 
your  route  runs  beside  Lake  Fuschl  over  to  Saint  Gil- 
gen,  on  the  shores  of  the  Rammer  Sea.  Here  you 
obtain  a grand  outline  of  the  extended  Salzkammergut 
and  its  chain  of  lofty  mountains,  and  your  interest  in- 
creases until  you  arrive  at  Ischl. 

At  the  brow  of  the  hill  which  overlooks  Saint  Wolf- 
gang’s Water,  there  is  a glorious  panorama  over  the 
indented  needles  of  these  mountain  spurs,  and  a vision 
of  surpassing  beauty  and  sublimity  is  spread  out,  as  if 
“ the  ocean  were  in  tempest  frozen,  and  chained  for 
ever  ’mid  the  glaciers  of  eternal  snows.” 

The  whole  region  of  the  Salzkammergut  has  many 


BATHS  AT  ISCHL. 


169 


features  of  resemblance  with  Switzerland,  and  there  is 
no  part  of  Austria  more  worthy  of  a visit,  or  which 
contains  so  much  that  is  remarkable,  in  proportion  to 
its  size. 


ISCHL. 

Ischl  is  one  of  the  fashionable  bathing-places  of 
the  Austrian  Court,  and  is  rendered  one  of  its  most  de- 
lightful resorts,  from  the  neighborhood  of  its  mineral 
districts.  Its  waters  are  highly  impregnated  with 
saline  properties,  and  its  situation  in  the  very  heart  of 
the  Saltzkammer,  affords  an  endless  variety  of  delight- 
ful and  easily  accessible  excursions. 

We  took  the  stell-wagen  early  next  morning,  and 
rode  to  the  “ Gmuden  Sea.”  The  falling  rain  pre- 
vented a good  view  of  this  charming  lake,  or  of  the 
bold  form  of  the  Traunstein,  a mountain  which  rises 
3000  feet  perpendicularly,  about  midway  across  to 
Langbath,  and  thence  by  railroad  to  “ Linz.” 

Here  begins  one  of  the  most  interesting  portions  of 
the  trip  down  the  Danube.  On  board  the  steamer  I was 
fortunate  in  meeting  an  Austrian  officer,  who  was  with 
me  in  my  wanderings  through  the  “ Tyrol.” 

It  is  not  until  the  Traun  empties  its  clear  waters 
in  the  stormy  and  troubled  Danube,  that  the  scenery 
grows  wild  and  grand. 


170 


PASS  OF  THE  STRUBEL. 


Below  that  stream  it  has  many  fine  points,  and  is 
as  full  of  historical  association  and  scenic  beauty  as 
the  Rhine.  That  fearful  Pass  of  the  Strubel,  where 
the  river  hurls  its  waters  over  the  hidden  rocks,  adds  a 
bolder  and  more  picturesque  feature.  The  banks  on 
either  side  are  crowned  by  a pleasing  succession  of 
ruined  towers,  old  castles,  and  fallen  cloisters,  equalling 
the  boasted  beauties  of  its  rival. 

It  is  difficult  to  compare  two  rivers  so  different  in 
aspect  and  diverse  in  population.  These  ruins  are 
scattered  and  remote,  and  its  striking  views  are  seldom 
frequent ; but  its  extent  is  greater  and  its  wonders  are 
spread  out  in  grander  proportions. 

It  has  also  its  stories  of  robbers’  strongholds  and 
castellated  lords.  On  its  waters  have  moved  the  fleets 
of  hostile  armies,  and  hordes  of  wild  barbarians  have 
overrun  its  banks.  Its  cloisters,  and  those  towers, 
speak  too  of  the  trials  of  the  early  Christian  church, 
or  ring  with  the  fame  of  Roman  greatness,  and  tell  of 
the  ravages  of  feudal  despotism.  Its  history  is  that  of 
the  Crusades,  whilst  it  is  the  boasted  river  of  the  Aus- 
trian, and  washes  the  shores  of  Nussdorf,  not  far  from 
their  capital,  Vienna. 


NUSSDORF- — LANDING  AT  NIGHT. 


171 


VIENNA. 

Owing  to  a very  thick  fog  which  retarded  the  pro- 
gress of  our  steamer,  we  arrived  at  Nussdorf  quite  late 
at  night.  All  was  confusion  on  shore,  and  the  Aus- 
trian hackmen  were  fully  as  clamorous  and  pressing  as 
those  of  our  own  Gotham.  Even  my  companion,  in 
the  Austrian  service,  swore  at  the  stupid  noisiness  of 
these  fellows,  and  was  not  a little  vexed  at  the  police- 
man, who  eyed  us  so  suspiciously  as  we  passed  out, 
and  viewed  our  passports  under  the  glare  of  his  lan- 
tern. 

There  was  a grand  splashing  and  crashing,  a hur- 
rah ! and  make  way ! when  four  spirited  bays  bore 
down  to  the  landing,  and  took  away  the  younger  Prince 
Esterhazy.  Then  all  was  quiet  and  subdued. 

We  succeeded  at  length  in  procuring  a hack.  So 
soon  as  my  friend’s  two  little  girls  were  stowed  away 
in  the  corner,  we  were  off  in  the  darkness  of  the  night 
through  the  muddy  lanes  of  Nussdorf,  and  took  our 
passchein  from  the  guard  as  we  passed  through  the 
“ Franzochen  Thor”  into  Vienna;  then  on  again 
through  the  well-lighted  streets  of  the  city  by  the  Jo- 
seph Platz,  catching  a passing  view  of  its  buildings 

and  crowds,  until  we  rattled  under  the  low  vaults  of 

,, 

the  “ Karnther  Gate,”  and  out  again  in  the  suburbs,  to 
the  Hotel  of  Trieste. 

8 


172 


INN  SUBURBAN GERMAN  BED. 


I must  say,  I felt  like  a cat  in  a strange  garret,  in 
that  gloomy  tavern,  without  an  acquaintance,  and  de- 
pendent on  the  civilities  of  this  noble  soldier.  As  it 
was,  I had  to  make  the  best  of  the  position,  and  sat 
quietly  down  in  that  miserable  little  chamber,  without 
carpet,  with  only  a crazy  washstand  and  a forlorn 
German  bed  for  relief.  The  last  was  indeed  a novel- 
ty, and  my  curiosity  led  me  to  examine  this  article  of 
furniture.  I looked  at  it  and  turned  it  over  ; it  seemed 
very  like  a dough-tray,  puffing  and  swollen  with  the 
leaven  of  emptiness,  and  puzzling  my  brain  to  find  an 
opening.  When  I entered,  it  was  hard  to  feel  the 
cover,  or  to  learn  the  use  of  a sort  of  wadded  pillow, 
which  was  floating  over  my  body.  There  was  no 
remedy  for  this  trifle ; the  bell  was  broken,  and  it  was 
now  too  late  to  call  the  Kellner : so  I managed  a sheet 
with  my  overcoat ; but  with  all  this,  they  both  slipped 
off  before  morning,  whilst  I laid  shivering,  and  think- 
ing how  any  German  ever  contrived  to  fancy  himself 
warm  with  such  bedding,  unless  it  was  by  the  simple 
force  of  a strong  imagination.  I felt  sad  to  think  I 
had  gone  to  bed  sleepless  and  supperless,  and  woke  up 
without  the  faintest  idea  whether  this  was  Spitzbergen 
or  Vienna.  Such  is  one  of  the  accidents  of  travel. 

The  next  morning  I changed  my  quarters  from  the 
suburbs  to  the  city. 

Vienna,  the  capital  of  Austria  and  residence  of  the 


WALK  ROUND  THE  GLACIS. 


173 


Emperor,  one  of  the  gayest  and  most  brilliant  courts, 
lies  on  the  lower  arm  of  the  Danube,  on  a charmingly 
undulating  plain,  bounded  by  low  chains  of  intersect- 
ing hills.  The  older  part,  encircled  by  the  walls  of  its 
fortifications,  is  set  apart  from  its  suburbs,  a^d  forms  a 
city  within  a city.  These  bastions  are  prettily  laid' 
out  in  promenades  and  carriage-ways,  planted  with 
shade-trees,  and  constitute  the  fashionable  walk  of  the 
citizens.  From  each  different  bastion  overlooking  the 
glacis,  you  command  striking  views  of  the  distant 
mountains,  which  limit  your  prospect  on  all  sides.  Its 
situation  on  the  last  step  of  that  succession  of  table- 
land, which  terminates  on  the  frontier  of  Lombardy, 
renders  the  climate  one  of  the  most  equable  and 
wholesome  in  Europe. 

You  must  get  up  early  in  the  morning  and  walk 
upon  the  ramparts,  to  view  the  life  of  this  busy  city, 
or  the  bustling  scenes  of  industry  which  animate  the 
plain,  and  watch  the  movements  of  the  gay  crowd  of 
peasants,  ever  pouring  up  the  avenues  to  the  different 
outer  gates,  and  continually  passing  in  and  out  under 
the  walls  of  the  inner  city.  You  can  walk  all  round 
the  ramparts  in  about  an  hour,  and  within  the  circuit 
of  these  four  miles  of  strong  works  lies  the  isolated 
Majesty  of  the  Imperial  Metropolis. 

Vienna  has  always  struck  me  with  delight  in  these 
views  of  its  panorama ; and  as  it  rises  with  its  domes 


174 


CENTRAL  POWER COSTUMES. 


and  steeples,  high  towering  houses,  pointed  roofs  and 
palaces,  within  this  girdle  of  mural  defences,  and  is 
yoked  by  its  wide  avenues  and  gates  to  its  thirty-two 
suburbs,  encircled  by  a belt  of  gentle  undulations,  it  is 
always  pictured  forth  to  my  mind  like  the  hub  of  a 
huge  wheel,  in  which  the  avenues  correspond  to  the 
spokes,  which,  while  they  radiate  from  a common  cen- 
tre, are  bound  together  at  the  tire  and  combine  in  the 
beautiful  relation  of  each  part,  to  give  strength  and 
beauty  to  their  play  around  the  axle  of  their  central 
attraction.  Thus  it  is,  that  the  capital  must  be  con- 
sidered not  only  in  its  bearings  to  its  environs,  but  in 
its  elevation  as  the  high  focus  of  a Court,  which  at- 
tracts and  unites  the  different  interests  of  Hungary, 
Bohemia,  Tyrol,  Illyria,  and  Styria,  in  this  head  of  the 
Austrian  empire. 

Within  the  walls,  you  are  struck  with  the  fine  ar- 
chitectural proportions  of  its  palaces,  public  buildings, 
churches,  and  theatres,  and  also  with  the  cleanliness  of 
its  streets,  markets,  and  public  squares. 

The  interior  life  of  the  city  is  no  less  attractive, 
and  its  neighborhood  to  the  seaport  Trieste,  brings 
hither  people  of  all  nations;  whilst  the  picturesque 
costumes  of  Albanians,  Bohemians,  Hungarians,  Jews, 
Greeks,  Turks,  Sclavonians,  and  Tyrolese,  give  a bril- 
liant aspect  and  effect  to  the  gay  crowds  which  as- 
semble daily  at  the  cafes,  or  are  grouped  together  in 
the  markets. 


CATHEDRAL  OF  ST.  STEPHEN. 


175 


The  chief  attractions  are  united  in  and  about  the 
Cathedral  of  St.  Stephen,  one  of  the  most  wonderful 
monuments  in  Europe.  It  is  the  great  wonder  of  Vi- 
enna, and  landmark  from  every  quarter  and  in  every 
view  of  the  city.  There  can  be  no  more  glorious  suc- 
cession of  graceful  effects,  than  those  which  fall  from 
the  uplifted  sweep  of  its  elegant  spire.  The  whole 
pyramidical  idea  or  form  fills  the  eye  so  completely, 
that  you  are  forced  by  its  beauty  to  stop  and  admire. 
There  is  such  repose  in  all  its  lines,  and  each  part  so 
nicely  balanced,  that  one  is  at  fault  to  find  its  defects. 
The  whole  mass  swells  in  harmonious  unity ; and  from 
the  base  to  its  richly  carved  doors,  upwards  to  the 
fretted  tracery  of  its  walls,  and  above  its  ornate  tower, 
even  to  the  pinnacle  of  the  spire,  there  is  a winning 
grace  and  beauty  of  composition,  which  charms  the 
eye,  fills  the  mind  with  images  of  beauty,  and  binds 
the  soul  in  raptures  with  the  simple  majesty  of  this  re- 
ligious Gothic,  which  is  so  admirably  adapted  for 
the  temples  of  our  heavenward  thoughts  and  aspira- 
tions. 

Near  by,  on  the  opposite  corner,  is  the  celebrated 
“ Stock  am  Eisen,”  an  old  iron-driven  stump,  the  last 
relic  of  the  far-famed  Wiener  Forest*  which  once 
stretched  its  dark  groves  even  into  the  middle  of  the 
present  city,  and  now  gives  its  name  to  this  quarter. 
There  is  some  legend  of  the  devil's  helping  a black- 


176 


THE  AM  HOF SHOPS SIGNS. 


smith  to  construct  that  huge  castle,  which  stands  before 
this  log,  and  there  is  such  faith  among  the  Viennese  in 
the  good  graces  of  his  majesty,  that  every  apprentice 
who  binds  himself  out  “ for  the  country/'  drives  a nail 
in  this  wooden  block,  and  as  he  sends  it  home  with  his 
blow,  shoulders  his  pack  and  passes  out  of  that  city, 
with  his  “ devil-may-take-it  ” air  ; so  that  in  a succes- 
sion of  centuries,  from  repeated  hammerings,  there  is 
little  or  nothing  left  of  what  was  formerly  part  of  an 
extensive  wood. 

In  the  Am  Hof  are  most  of  the  rich  shops  of  the 
city,  and  there  is  a profuse  display  of  pipes,  of  all  sizes 
and  varieties,  from  the  plain  clay  to  the  richly  sculp- 
tured meerschaum  of  a thousand  florins.  You  will 
observe  that  most  of  the  shops  are  painted  with  de- 
vices and  tolerably  good  portraits  of  men  and  women, 
or  some  appropriate  sign  corresponding  to  the  stock  of 
trade  within.  Many  of  these  are  very  artistically  done, 
and  would  not  disgrace  the  walls  of  some  of  our  ama- 
teur charities.  So  it  happens  that  a store  is  oftener 
known  by  its  pendent  picture  than  by  its  owner’s 
name. 

In  company  with  our  agreeable  consul,  Herr 
Schwartz,  I went  to  visit  the  Augustine  Church, 
which  contains  that  beautiful  monument  erected  by 
the  Archduke  Albert,  to  the  memory  of  his  wife.  It 
is  one  of  the  happiest  productions  of  Canova,  and  the 


EMBALMED  HEARTS  OF  THE  EMPERORS.  177 
* 

design  is  after  that  in  the  Vatican,  the  figures  only  be- 
ing slightly  changed  to  represent  the  various  virtues  of 
that  charming  princess. 

Within  this  edifice,  and  in  the  Chapel  of  Loretto, 
is  the  shrine  of  the  Imperial  Hearts.  You  look  through 
a small  grating  in  the  door,  and  see  those  chaste  gold 
and  silver  urns,  which  contain  the  embalmed  hearts  of 
deceased  kings.  Their  imperial  bowels  rest  in  the 
Catacombs  at  Saint  Stephen's,  and  their  crumbling 
ashes  in  the  vaults  of  the  Capuchiner. 

On  the  outside  of  the  Volksgarden  and  without  the 
walls,  you  descend  to  see  another  of  Canova's  works, 
which  is  kept  under  the  cover  of  a temple,  erected  es- 
pecially for  the  noble  statue  of  “ Theseus  destroying 
the  Minotaur."  It  was  originally  intended  by  Napo- 
leon to  crown  the  summit  of  the  Simplon  on  the  de- 
scent to  Italy,  but  it  has  been  diverted  from  its  design 
by  being  pent  up  and  cribbed  within  the  porches  of  a 
pigeon-coop,  to  be  looked  at  and  gazed  upon  by  the 
unappreciating  masses  of  Vienna. 

Whilst  in  town,  the  Court  went  into  mourning  for 
the  young  Duke  Charles,  who  died  at  scarce  nineteen. 
The  ceremonies  at  the  palace  chapel  were  imposing, 
and  on  the  evening  previous  to  the  entombment,  there 
was  a dirge  sung  at  the  Catapasm,  the  first  form  of 
sprinkling  the  ashes  over  the  body.  The  next  morning 
at  ten  o'clock,  there  was  a full  attendance  of  the  Court, 


178 


PORTRAIT  OF  THE  EMPEROR. 


and  all  the  household  guards.  The  procession  was 
formed  in  the  interior  of  the  palace,  and  as  it  moved 
out,  gave  us  an  excellent  opportunity  of  seeing  every 
member  of  the  reigning  family,  the  chief  ministers  of 
the  empire,  and  the  whole  diplomatic  body,  as  they 
passed  in  order  to  the  chapel.  The  Emperor  is  an  in- 
significant and  stunted  figure  of  a man,  and  has  an 
imbecile  and  pusillanimous  countenance.  There  are 
few  of  his  subjects  who  do  not  readily  confess  it,  while 
they  grieve  over  their  destiny,  intrusted  to  the  hands 
of  a fool,  however  wisely  managed  by  a Metternich. 
He  was  in  the  habit  of  playing  with  this  royal  puppet, 
and  quarrelled  with  him  about  the  color  of  the  guards, 
the  plumes  and  liveries  of  his  nobles ; and  then  yielded, 
to  gratify  the  vanity  of  the  sovereign,  who  would 
laugh  and  chuckle  over  the  game  won,  and  exclaim, 
“ Ah,  Metternich ! I have  beaten  you ! and  as  you  are 
my  greatest  minister,  and  chief  potentate  in  the  eyes 
of  Europe,  certes,  it  follows,  I,  the  Emperor,  am  great- 
er. Ha!  ha!  ha!  Metternich,  my  old  boy ! Donner 
and  weitter  ! Gluck ! Trinken  wir !”  What  shall  it  be  ? 
Schnaps,  of  course ! 

After  the  ceremony  we  saw  the  High  Imperial 
Grand  Inspector  of  the  fortifications,  King’s  country 
palaces  and  domains.  You  must  be  particular  to  give 
every  man  his  proper  title  in  Austria,  or  you  will  get 
into  trouble ; and  should  always  take  off  your  hat  in 


OBER  DIRECTOR ARMORY. 


179 


going  into  the  post,  or  any  other  government  office,  or 
it  will  be  suggested  that  you  are  doing  irreverence  to 
the  side-reflected  majesty  of  His  Imperial  Highness, 
which  descendeth  from  the  august  person  on  the 
throne,  and  reaches  to  the  remotest  patronage  of  this 
royal  booby. 

The  Ober  Director  was  a fine  specimen  of  the 
hardy  race  of  Austria,  and  spoke  volumes  for  her  cli- 
mate ; he  was  then  ninety  years  old,  and  as  erect  and 
vigorous  as  many  of  us  at  fifty,  so  that  he  walked  about, 
without  help  of  cane  or  shoulder-braces. 

Most  of  the  interesting  galleries  of  paintings  are 
situated  in  the  different  suburbs  outside.  There  is, 
however,  an  interesting  civic  armory  near  the  Am 
Hof,  which  has  many  curious  specimens  of  ancient 
armor,  and  only  such  relics  as  have  distinct  and  indi- 
vidual value  from  their  local  history  or  associations. 
The  skull  of  Kara-Mustapha  was  among  these,  and 
was  kept  in  all  its  desiccated  ghastliness,  inclosed  in  a 
glass  case ; a barbarous  exhibition,  little  creditable  to 
the  civilization  of  Austria.  The  grand  royal  armory 
beyond  has  many  curious  relics  from  the  battles  which 
have  been  fought  in  Germany.  There  are  a few  col- 
lections of  paintings  in  the  different  vorstadts  which 
claim  notice  from  the  merits  of  a few  gems  of  art. 
The  Belvidere  has  a number  of  choice  paintings  of  the 


8* 


180 


PAINTINGS THE  VOLKSG ARDEN. 


Italian  school,  and  a “Virgin”  and  “Repose  in- Egypt,” 
by  Raphael,  of  rare  beauty. 

There  are  also  some  exquisite  paintings  in  the  gal- 
leries of  the  Princes  Scharfenburg  and  Lichtenstein, 
but  there  are  no  collections,  which  united,  would  equal 
the  attractions  of  the  Dresden  gallery. 

It  is  somewhat  remarkable,  that  in  the  universal 
taste  which  prevails  in  painting,  there  is  a great  lack 
of  statuary.  With  the  exception  of  one  or  two  statues, 
there  are  few  which  are  not  ridiculed  by  the  inhabitants 
themselves.  But  there  is  no  want  of  statuary  abortions, 
for  they  stand  on  every  square,  and  disfigure  many  of 
the  fountains  of  the  capital. 

It  is  among  the  gardens  and  the  caffls,  the  dance- 
houses  and  the  music  saloons,  that  one  catches  most 
pleasing  pictures  of  the  gay  life  and  general  air  of  con- 
tentment which  characterize  the  people. 

The  Volksgarden  is  their  favorite  resort.  Here  you 
will  be  cheered  by  the  animated  and  lively  airs  of  Strauss 
and  Son.  If  you  desire  something  more  piquant,  there 
are  some  subterranean  cellars  where  you  may  sketch 
a lower  grade  of  society  ; and  without  offence  to  dig- 
nity, you  will  view  scenes  which  amuse  without  dis- 
gusting. So  again  at  Sperls,  in  St.  Anna's  quarter,  go  in 
and  take  the  first  frau  you  meet,  and  polka  and  shuffle 
in  that  gay  group,  who  go  reeling  with  eagerness  and 
intense  excitement  in  the  whirling  mazes  of  the  waltz. 


DANCE  HOUSES CAFE  GROUPS. 


181 


There  is  no  half-way  work  about  these  Viennese ; it 
is  constant  rotation  in  the  offices  of  the  dance.  One 
party  relieves  another ; whilst  in  different  corners  of 
that  vast  apartment,  there  are  gay  groups  of  revellers 
treating  their  partners  to  “ schnaps  ” and  beer,  amid 
thick  clouds  of  tobacco  smoke  and  notes  of  stirring 
music.  Here  is  great  fun  to  be  had  for  a trifle.  But 
there  is  no  beauty,  nothing  of  outline  to  raise  any 
flame  of  ardent  devotion.  These  women  may  be  your 
washerwomen  the  next  morning ; but  it  is  all  the  same 
in  Dutch,  and  we  do  these  things  differently  in  “ Flan- 
ders/' 

It  is  in  the  Leopoldstadt  that  you  catch  the  most 
brilliant  groups  of  the  great  national  diversities  of 
people  and  manners.  Here  are  groups  of  Armenians 
and  Turks,  long-robed  Jews,  and  those  boorish  Sclavo- 
nians,  who  move  round  in  their  shaggy  wolf-skins,  and 
seem  as  wildly  uncouth  and  barbarous  as  the  Huns, 
their  ancestors.  Inside  the  town  at  the  Casino,  and  the 
fine  cuisine  of  the  “ Archduke  Charles,"  you  can  partake 
of  the  peculiarities  of  German  cooking.  It  is  of  a higher 
order  than  that  of  Interior  Germany,  and  shows  some- 
what an  advance  in  civilization,  and  the  influence  of 
court  manners  on  the  goftt  of  their  kitchens. 

The  language  of  the  Court  is  German,  but  not 
so  purely  spoken  as  by  the  Hanoverians,  and  for  that 
reason  may  be  more  readily  understood  by  those  who 


182 


TABLE  TALK SCHONBRUNN. 


are  little  familiar  with  the  idiomatic  expressions. 
Whilst  at  the  table  one  day,  I was  quite  struck  by  the 
license  of  conversation  on  the  character  of  the  govern- 
ment ; it  seemed  strange  to  hear  the  Emperor  publicly 
pronounced  an  “ ass,”  with  a belief  that  after  Metter- 
nich's  decease,  the  empire  would  cease  to  awe,  in  a 
kingdom  where  there  is  a guard  placed  almost  on  the 
door  of  every  man's  lips,  and  where  strict  censorship 
of  the  “ press  ” precludes  every  possibility  of  free  dis- 
cussion. The  celebrated  Prater,  and  boasted  ride  of 
the  Viennese,  has  by  no  means  the  display  of  Regent's 
Park.  It  is  situated  at  some  little  distance  outside  the 
town,  and  on  a pleasant  afternoon  is  filled  with  every 
species  of  vehicle,  from  the  rough  little  drosky  of  a 
quiet  German  vater,  taking  his  family  to  air,  to  the 
brilliant  equipages  of  the  nobles,  who  ride  there  to 
display  the  varied  colors  of  their  blood  and  livery.  It 
presents  a most  democratic  mixture,  and  in  the  variety 
of  objects  around,  you  have  abundant  field  for  amuse- 
ment and  observation.  The  road-side  is  laid  out  in 
natural  forest,  and  numerous  deer  are  kept  within  and 
left  to  roam  at  large  over  the  forests  of  the  Prater. 

You  can  take  the  omnibus  behind  the  Casino,  out 
to  Schonbrunn,  the  summer  palace  of  the  Emperor. 
The  house  and  grounds  are  well  planned,  and  attached 
is  a fine  menagerie,  in  which  there  is  a happy  family 
of  well-fed  beasts,  who  are  kept  with  great  propriety 


STEAMBOAT  COMPANIONS. 


183 


‘within  the  bars  of  their  iron  cages.  The  botanical 
garden  is  filled  with  rare  plants  and  rich  varieties  of 
exotics ; and  on  an  elevated  ridge  of  the  palace  ground 
is  the  “ Gloriette,”  from  which  you  obtain  one  of  the 
most  pleasing  views  over  the  whole  extent  of  Vienna. 
Here  properly  terminated  our  visit  of  this  capital. 


THE  SAIL  DOWN  THE  DANUBE  TO  CONSTANTINOPLE. 

We  settled  our  bill  at  the  “ Lamm,”  and  tossed  a 
florin  to  the  “ boots/'  as  we  rattled  away  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Prater,  taking  our  last  look  of  Vienna,  and 
urging  the  driver  to  bring  us  in  the  quickest  possible 
time  to  the  steamer,  which  was  to  start  that  afternoon, 
at  two  o'clock,  for  Stamboul.  We  went  on  board  the 
“ Sophia  " at  the  wharf,  near  the  King's  Mill,  and  in  a 
few  moments  were  fairly  under  full  steam,  and  with 
the  favor  of  a beautiful  day,  were  puffing  it  down  the 
Danube. 

* We  then  took  a look  at  our  company.  We  found 
some  of  the  same  people  who  had  come  with  us  from 
Linz  to  Vienna,  and  were  now  again  with  us  on  our 
way  to  Constantinople.  We  had  rather  a motley  crew 
to  begin  with.  There  were  Frenchmen,  Armenians, 
Hungarians,  Russians,  Moldavians,  Servians,  Walla- 
chians,  and  Americans  ; and  singular  to  relate,  not  a 
single  Englishman.  And  there  was  M.  Rosetti  and 


184 


PRESBURG. 


his  party,  handsome  Count  P.,  the  charming  Princess 
C.,  and  her  daughter  Olga,  accompanied  by  her  gov- 
erness, and  waited  upon  by  their  tall  femme  de  chambre 
Phillipine. 

The  shores  of  the  Danube  offer  very  little  to  inter- 
est you,  except  near  the  island  of  Lobau,  which  Napo- 
leon besieged  before  the  battle  of  Wagram,  in  1809, 
after  he  was  held  in  check  by  the  Archduke  Charles, 
at  the  village  of  Aspern,  which  you  pass  on  the  way. 
To  be  sure  you  run  by  old  Castle  Petronell,  with  its 
305  windows,  and  pretty  tough  story  of  the  old  Count’s 
thirty-six  sons,  who  are  hung  on  the  wainscot  of  the 
old  manor  hall,  and  pass  some  few  pretty  villages  dotted 
along  the  shore ; but  there  is  nothing  worth  looking  at, 
until  you  come  nearer  to  the  city  of  Presburg,  when 
the  banks  become  bolder,  and  here  and  there  a ruin 
mantles  the  hills. 

PRESBURG. 

It  was  sunset  when  we  arrived  at  Presburg.  The 
warm  rays  of  twilight  which  burnished  its  hills,  and 
painted  the  landscape  in  the  mellowest  tone  of  a 
Claude,  gave  to  its  castles,  bridges,  and  opposite  island, 
an  effect  of  bewitching  beauty.  The  old  town  lies  on 
a low  spur  of  the  Carpathian  mountains,  and  directly 
in  front  is  that  little  crowned  hillock,  where  the  Kings  of 


ISLE  OF  MOLDAU. 


185 


Hungary  are  sworn,  under  the  sword  of  the  holy 
Saint  Stephen,  which  they  brandish  on  high  with  cru- 
ciform flourish,  to  indicate  that  by  it  the  country  will 
be  protected  from  invaders,  at  all  hazards  and  at  every 
point. 

We  crossed  over  the  bridge  of  boats  to  the  Isle  of 
Moldau,  the  Prater  of  the  Presburghers,  better  to  en- 
joy the  beauties  of  that  glorious  twilight,  and  to  view 
the  last  rays  of  evening,  as  they  stole  through  the  open 
casement  of  that  noble  old  ruin  on  Castle  Hill  oppo- 
site, and  then  entered  the  cafe  where  groups  of  merry 
citizens  were  enjoying  the  music  of  a fine  military 
band,  whilst  sipping  their  ices  quite  cosily  at  those 
little  tables  spread  under  the  trees.  You  may  be  sure 
we  soon  joined  them,  and  let  our  spoons  fall  as  we 
were  rapt  up  in  the  charms  of  some  bewitching 
face  ; and  I have  no  doubt  you  will  think  it  imperti- 
nent, but  we  crossed  that  bridge  of  boats  three  times, 
to  catch  another  look  at  one  charming  maid,  who  was 
too  excruciatingly  pretty. 

We  kept  up  a gay  and  frolicksome  evening  long 
after  we  had  jumped  into  bed  at  “ The  Three  Trees  ” 
Gasthaus,  for  there  had  so  many  funny  things  happened 
on  that  first  day  of  Dampfschifiing,  and  we  had  so 
many  questions  to  ask,  and  such  thoughts  to  commu- 
nicate, as,  “ Who  was  the  Princess  ? and  who  her 
maid  ?”  &c. ; and  we  slept  not  at  all,  until  an  in- 


186 


HUNGARIAN  HORSE-DEALER. 


valid  old  covey  rapped  on  the  wall,  and  lustily  hal- 
looed, “ Oh  mein  herr  and  mein  donner,”  “ sei  stille, 
mein  freund  ! Ich  bitte  ! Ich  bitte  ! oh  ! oh  ! oh  V 9 
which  put  a stop  to  our  merriment,  after  one  more 
hearty  roaf ; for  there  is  something  strangely  funny  in 
the  misfortunes  of  others. 

We  got  up  early  the  next  morning,  to  take  schnaps 
with  coffee,  to  keep  off  the  ill  effects  of  the  Danube 
fogs,  and  then  went  again  on  board  the  “ Sophia,” 
which  was  to  take  us  that  day  to  Pesth.  To-day  we 
had  an  opportunity  to  select  our  associates  out  of  the 
mixed  company  on  board,  and  we  became  better  ac- 
quainted with  those  who  were  to  accompany  us  to  the 
Mouth.  About  dinner  time,  we  passed  some  of  the 
most  interesting  points  of  the  scenery ; and  took  in  an 
old  Hungarian  merchant  and  his  daughter,  whom  we 
found  a chatty  and  conversable  person,  ready  to  laugh 
with  us,  and  to  tell  us  all  that  she  knew  about  the 
people  and  their  country.  The  old  man  was  a horse- 
trader,  and  in  the  habit  of  collecting  large  droves  of 
horses  to  furnish  the  markets  of  Germany,  and  even 
England.  We  almost  persuaded  our  young  friend  to 
join  us  to  the  end  of  our  journey,  and  she  would  will- 
ingly have  done  so,  if  we  would  have  thrown  the  old 
man  into  the  bargain.  She  had  no  prudery  about  her, 
and  no  doubt  knew  that  we  were  strangers,  and 
wished  to  contribute  as  much  as  possible  to  our 


CORTEGE  OF  NOBLES. 


187 


amusement ; as  she  did  by  her  gayety  of  manner  and 
naivete  of  remark.  We  were  in  so  high  glee  in  such 
company,  that  we  scarcely  noticed  our  approach  to 
Pesth,  and  those  noble  banks  which  rise  so  abruptly  as 
almost  to  obscure  the  town.  We  had  no  sooner 
landed  than  we  took  rooms  in  the  fine  Hotel  of  the 
Konigen  von  England,  where  we  had  royal  apartments 
overlooking  the  Danube,  and  the  imposing  prospect  of 
(Ofen)  Buda  opposite,  joined  to  the  city  by  a bridge  of 
boats. 

Soon  after,  as  we  were  crossing  to  Buda,  our  at- 
tention was  arrested  by  a cortege  of  Hungarian  nobles 
passing  over  the  bridge,  crashing  and  dashing  over  its 
planks,  which  yielded  and  shrieked  under  the  furious 
driving  of  the  Magyars,  attended  by  postillions  and 
footmen  in  long  flowing  robes,  with  swords  at  side  and 
pistols  in  belt,  as  if  they  were  returning  from  the  sittings 
of  their  Diet  at  Ofen. 


PESTH. 

The  low  situation  of  Pesth  is  in  striking  contrast 
with  the  wildly  picturesque  location  of  the  old  town  of 
Buda.  We  continued  our  walk  to  the  height  of  the 
old  ruined  fortress,  and  from  the  ramparts  obtained  a 
glorious  view  over  the  outstretched  landscape  far  up 
and  down  the  river. 


188 


MOHACKS GRISETTE. 


The  next  morning  we  took  another  boat,  and 
started  with  the  Frederick.  On  board  we  found  addi- 
tions to  the  number  of  our  party.  To-day’s  sail 
offered  little  to  interest  us,  until  we  came  in  sight  of 
Graun,  with  its  fine  old  Episcopal  Palace,  rearing  its 
tall  spire  over  the  distant  village.  We  stopped  and 
took  in  a Hungarian  wedding  party,  which  had  been 
accompanied  by  all  their  friends  to  the  boat,  and  were 
joyous  and  happy  enough,  in  the  expression  of  their 
wild  and  boisterous  sympathy.  We  had  to  part  here 
with  our  charming  young  lady,  and  nothing  further  oc- 
curred that  day,  until  we  took  in  coal  at  the  Mohacks, 
a wild  bluff  extending  over  the  shore,  and  inhabited  by 
as  uncouth  a set  of  savages  as  could  be  clad  in  their 
simple  sheepskins,  whose  aspect  was  so  begrimed 
with  coal-black  and  dirt,  that  it  was  scarcely  possible 
to  recognize  their  features.  This  duty  performed,  we 
sailed  a little  further  down  the  river,  to  remain  at  Ap- 
atin  until  midnight,  discharging  freight. 

We  had  glorious  weather  on  our  next  day,  as  we 
passed  by  the  cliffs  of  Petervardein.  Our  passengers 
grew  more  familiar,  and  our  little  grisette  became  a 
general  favorite  among  the  more  romantic  portion  of 
our  sex. 

I fell  into  conversation  with  the  governess,  and  in 
my  sympathy  for  her  situation,  soon  discovered  that 
the  Princess  C.  was  from  Odessa,  and  after  four  years’ 


SNOK MOONLIGHT  STROLL. 


189 


separation  from  her  husband,  she  was  returning  to  join 
him  again.  Marie,  the  governess,  had  joined  her  as 
tutor  to  her  little  Olga,  who,  by  the  way,  was  neither 
inclined  nor  old  enough  to  be  tutored  ; and  the  duties 
of  Phillipine  seemed  to  be  a very  slight  care  of  the 
child,  a blind  eye  to  her  mistress’s  defects,  and  a half 
confidential  and  deferential  position  towards  the  gov- 
erness. In  the  meanwhile,  we  were  passing  the  Castle 
of  Snok,  and  it  was  under  the  soft  light  of  the  autumnal 
moon,  that  we  steered  our  way  to  port,  at  Semblin, 
wrhere  we  stopped  all  night. 

SEMBLIN. 

We  soon  scattered  in  various  groups  on  shore,  and 
sauntered  about  over  the  banks,  enjoying  the  glories  of 
the  moonlit  scene.  The  Princess  hung  gracefully  on 
the  arm  of  the  young  Count  P.,  and  they  sought  the 
most  secluded  shades  for  the  free  converse  of  their  now 
mutual  loves. 

We  walked  by  the  side  of  the  grisette,  and  from 
her  learnt  that  she  was  travelling  alone  from  Paris,  to 
visit  a married  sister  at  Odessa.  I never  could  make 
out  a perfectly  consistent  story,  but  I could  not  but 
admire  her  simple  frankness  and  her  adventurous  dar- 
ing. She  evidently  was  up  to  all  the  ways  of  Parisian 
life,  could  dance  the  “ Cancan,”  and  sing  snatches  of 


190 


DEFILE  OF  KASAN. 


“ Les  Etudiants,”  &c.,  and  other  popular  ditties  of  the 
Chaumiere  ; but  she  was  always  proper  and  free  from 
all  indecency,  and  though  she  slept  in  the  same  cabin 
with  her  compatriots,  they  were  none  the  wiser. 

I asked  her  if  she  were  not  afraid  of  insult  in  her 
lonely  wanderings  ; and  she  replied  by  drawing  a little 
poniard  from  her  bosom,  and  flourishing  it  with  a 
graceful  turn,  whilst  she  laughed  as  she  said,  “ Ah,  non ! 
voila  rnon  protecteur !”  and  then  she  would  turn  round 
and  rattle  away  in  charming  French,  and  be  wild  and 
gay  as  a lark,  without  harboring  thought  of  evil  or  ap- 
prehension as  to  her  safety. 

How  fortunate  we  are  in  such  glorious  weather ! 
The  scenery  of  this  whole  day  is  grand,  and  we  are 
now  passing  in  the  neighborhood  of  Moldavia.  There 
was  a succession  of  stirring  and  charming  scenery  as 
we  approached  the  “ Rapids  of  the  Danube,”  near  Dren- 
kova,  where  the  river  runs  wildly  on,  like  a mad  cata- 
ract, and  rushes  impetuously  over  its  rocky  bed,  until  it 
is  embraced  within  the  arms  of  lofty  encircling  hills  ; 
where  it  whirls  and  rages  with  foam  and  eddy,  as  it 
struggles  to  escape  from  the  hidden  shackles ; and  then 
leaps  exultirigly  free,  with  arrowy  swiftness,  through 
the  gorgeous  parapets  of  Kasan.  No  sight  could  be 
more  superlatively  grand. 

It  was  sunset,  as  we  ran  or  rather  dashed  past 
these  rugged  palisades,  and  the  whole  landscape  was 


CLASSIC  MEMORIES. 


191 


bathed  in  the  richest  tones  of  purple  light.  Those 
rocks  assumed  a golden  hue.  The  hills  cast  their 
deepest  shadow  on  the  now  lake-like  surface  of  the 
Danube,  and  no  sound  broke  the  solemn  silence  of  that 
solitary  scene,  save  the  shrill  cry  of  some  startled 
eagle  or  the  sharp  crackling  of  the  fisherman’s  fire  on 
shore.  The  long  wild  echo  of  the  Austrian  coast 
guard,  invoked  the  memory  of  the  past,  when  Roman 
sentinel  walked  his  rounds  on  the  summit  of  these 
walls ; whilst  their  fantastic  form  and  grooved  battle- 
ments, lent  easy  aid  for  fancy  to  picture  on  their  fronts 
the  glorious  feats  of  a Trajan  or  a Severus,  or  the 
emblazoned  cross  raised  aloft  in  the  passage  of  the 
early  crusaders. 

We  landed  that  night  at  Orsova,  a miserable 
town,  which  would  have  appeared  to  great  disad- 
vantage at  any  other  time,  but  for  that  rich  moon 
which  glowed  beautifully  over  the  low  valley  in  which 
it  lies.  We  walked  out  to  view  the  village,  under  its 
glorious  light,  and  mused  awhile  on  the  departed 
greatness  of  the  land,  when  Rome  ruled  over  this 
region,  and  left  behind  evidences  of  her  prowess  and 
achievements,  in  those  military  roads,  which  can  be 
traced  out  to  the  present  day. 

We  returned  to  our  inn,  and  found  it  well  filled 
with  villagers  who  had  been  attracted  by  the  fact  of 
so  large  an  arrival ; and  we  went  and  sat  with  these 


192 


ORSOVA BROKEN  MIRROR. 


peasants,  while  they  amused  us  with  their  songs  and 
mirth  over  their  cups  and  blinding  pipes  of  tobacco 
smoke. 

We  soon  found  more  agreeable  diversion  in  our  own 
party ; so  withdrawing  to  a private  room,  drew  away 
the  musician,  and  joined  in  a most  democratic  dance, 
in  which  the  Princess,  femme  de  chambre,  and  grisette 
partook,  much  to  the  chagrin  of  Marie  the  governess, 
who  was  a little  touched  with  a fierte  Anglaise,  and 
did  not  relish  the  display  of  Polka  and  Cracovienne 
among  these  boors,  and  in  the  wilds  of  Wallachia. 

ORSOVA. 

At  Orsova  we  remained  until  morning,  under  the 
plea  of  having  our  passports  properly  vised.  We 
started  out  of  our  shabby  inn,  bearing  with  us  the 
prize  of  a broken  looking-glass,  which  had  seen  fit  to 
crack  under  sheer  fright  at  an  ugly  barbarian,  and  for 
which  we  were  called  upon  to  pay  ; there  being  no 
stipulation  with  our  landlady  for  an  exhibition  of  ex- 
traordinary phizes.  We  felt  no  uneasiness  on  the 
score  of  wantonness,  as  we  threw  the  old  glass  on 
deck,  for  a wandering  Jew  immediately  picked  up  the 
fragments,  and  we  rested  in  the  satisfaction  that  there 
would  be  nothing  lost  by  his  speculations  on  the  faces 
of  others  of  his  fellow-citizens. 


RAPIDS TURKISH  SHORE. 


193 


The  steamer  “ Hirsh”  took  us  in  about  two  hours 
to  New  Orsova,  just  opposite  the  Turkish  boundary; 
and  we  were  there  exchanged  into  a smaller  boat,  to 
enable  us  to  cross  the  Rapids  in  safety.  The  carriages 
and  all  heavy  freight  had  smarted  in  a flat-boat  before 
us.  On  the  way  to  New  Orsova  we  passed  several 
miserable  Wallachian  villages,  and  at  Aegile  you  get 
your  first  view  of  the  Turkish  shore,  as  you  leave 
the  fortress  to  the  right.  At  this  point  you  catch  a 
beautiful  view  of  both  shores,  as  the  river  widens  on 
each  side  of  a deserted  island.  Before  passing  the 
Rapids,  you  are  at  liberty  to  choose  your  pratique  on 
either  side  of  the  river,  and  there  are  two  boats,  one 
Turkish,  the  other  Austrian  ; — whichever  one  is  taken, 
obliges  you  to  keep  to  that  shore,  as  you  would  break 
your  quarantine  by  going  from  one  to  the  other.  We 
continued  on  the  Austrian  boat,  but  by  some  singular 
mishap  my  trunk  went  into  pratique,  and  remained  so 
until  it  was  taken  out  below  the  falls. 

About  noon  we  passed  over  the  “Iron  Gates”  of 
the  Danube  at  Skela  Gladova,  so  called,  from  a wide 
stretching  barrier  of  rocks,  which  at  low  water  im- 
pedes navigation,  and  renders  them  impassable  at  that 
stage.  There  is  no  risk  whatever  at  high  flood,  and 
the  scenery  in  their  neighborhood  has  little  to  attract, 
after  the  passage  of  the  defiles  of  yesterday.  We 
sailed  smoothly  over ; and  there  was  but  one  loner 


194 


ROMAN  BRIDGE WIDDIN. 


swing  of  our  boat,  as  she  came  suddenly  up  to  her 
rudder ; then  one  heavy  swell  underneath  ; and  she 
was  over  and  safe,  and  ourselves  landed  at  Gladova. 

We  here  took  the  “ Arpad,”  a very  excellent  boat, 
with  an  Italian  for  our  captain,  who  sang  pleasantly 
for  us  at  evening,  and  treated  us  well  enough  by  day. 
We  fared  very  so-so,  under  the  treatment  of  our  Mal- 
tese steward,  who  had  a faculty  of  tongues,  as  he 
spoke  half  a dozen,  “ but  no  great  genius  at  cooking,” 
but  he  managed  to  give  black  coffee  at  rising,  break- 
fast at  ten  o’clock  (&  la  fourchette),  dinner  at  five,  and 
tea  at  seven.  Our  sleeping  apartments  were  not  so 
good,  as  all  were  stowed  away  feet  to  feet  in  a com- 
mon cabin,  and  we  were  mischievous  enough  to  spend 
most  of  our  evening  in  that  juvenile  pastime  of  the 
“ Battle  at  Pillows.”  A little  below  the  Rapids  we 
passed  two  abutments  of  a Roman  bridge,  built  in  the 
reign  of  Trajan,  and  at  low  water  these  piers  can  be 
traced  to  some  distance  on  both  sides  of  the  banks. 
Relow  this,  near  Sozereng,  are  the  ruins  of  the  Tower 
of  Severus.  These  are  only  a few  of  many  traces  of 
the  vastness  of  the  domain  of  the  Empire,  and  of  that 
nation  who  only  conquered  barbarians  to  infuse  into 
their  character  a portion  of  their  own  civilization  and 
grand  improvements. 

We  passed  Widdin  by  moonlight,  catching  a beau- 
tiful view  of  its  twenty-two  minarets,  gleaming  richly 


GUIRGEVO— ORIENTAL  ASPECT. 


195 


under  its  silvery  frosting;  at  which  point  Bulgarian 
Turkey  begins ; and  just  below  this,  at  Rahova,  we 
laid  up  for  the  night.  Our  fine  weather  continues : 
and  next  morning  we  passed  on  to  Nicopolis  and 
Rutzchuh,  both  small  Turkish  towns  prettily  situated 
on  the  opposite  bank.  About  sunset  we  landed  at 
Guirgevo,  where  we  went  ashore,  as  we  were  to  re- 
main there  until  midnight.  We  walked  into  the  town, 
which  was  about  a mile  from  the  river,  and  were  much 
pleased  by  the  stirring  life  of  the  village,  which  seems 
centred  around  a grand  square,  in  the  middle  of  which 
rose  a very  singular  and  high  tower,  used  as  a police 
office,  and  also  for  a watch  station,  in  case  of  fire. 
There  were  a great  many  Albanians  mixed  among  the 
people,  who  are  much  esteemed  as  postillions  and 
guards.  The  different  groups  scattered  about  the 
coffee-houses  began  to  assume  somewhat  of  an  East- 
ern character,  and  the  different  races  of  Wallachians, 
Jews,  Turks,  and  Albanians,  presented  a fine  variety 
of  physiognomies  and  costumes.  We  wThiled  away 
that  evening  enjoying  the  rich  landscape  from  the 
river  side,  and  caught  many  suggestions  from  the 
scenes  about  us,  as  we  sat  on  the  banks  by  the  walls 
of  a dilapidated  fort,  and  looked  out  on  the  shipping 
below  us,  the  opposite  minarets  of  Rutzchuh,  and  the 
nearer  beauties  of  the  still  life  ashore ; and  it  was  not 

until  after  midnight,  that  we  were  willing  to  go  into 
9 


196 


HOVELS PARTING  KISSES. 


the  cabin  to  bed,  whilst  the  moon  was  so  wide  awake 
above,  and  this  keeper  of  secrets  was  winking  at  the 
amours  of  our  Venus  and  Adonis  on  deck — the  Prin- 
cess and  Count. 

We  sailed  away  from  Silistria  and  its  fine  fortress 
in  the  morning,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  passed  some 
singularly  bold  rocks  projecting  in  very  fanciful  forms 
over  the  banks.  The  Turkish  side  is  usually  the  more 
varied  and  picturesque.  This  day’s  journey  offered 
scarce  any  object  of  note ; and  we  were  glad  to  reach 
Gallatz,  to  enjoy  one  night  of  uninterrupted  repose. 

GALLATZ. 

Early  next  morning  we  walked  up  to  breakfast  in 
the  village.  I have  seldom  seen  a more  miserable  col- 
lection of  tenements,  or  a more  wretched  class  of  peo- 
ple. Every  thing  appeared  either  in  ruins  or  approach- 
ing its  dissolution.  The  little  commerce  of  the  place 
seemed  entirely  usurped  by  hungry  Greeks  or  Jews. 
Our  party  stopped  at  the  “ Moldavia,”  the  only  inn  in 
the  town,  and  we  went  up  to  take  an  affectionate  adieu. 
We  kissed  all  round,  not  even  stopping  at  the  grisette, 
and  on  both  cheeks.  On  board,  we  took  our  leave  of 
the  Princess  and  her  suite,  and  then  went  into  the  La- 
zaretto to  perform  pratique,  for  there  was  no  getting 


THE  EUXINE. 


197 


out  after  that.  Here  we  left  pretty  nearly  all  those 
passengers  who  had  started  with  us  from  Vienna. 

The  next  morning  we  took  the  “ Karloratz,”  and 
our  sail,  until  noon,  was  rendered  disagreeable  by  the 
presence  of  a heavy  fog.  In  the  mean  time  we  stopped] 
at  Kuldjuh  to  land  a few  passengers  ; and  here  also 
took  in  a large  number  of  pure  Turks,  who  were 
spread  over  the  deck,  and  offered  pleasing  groups  as 
they  sat  scattered  about,  variously  occupied  with  their 
pipes  and  coffee.  They  had  all  the  appearance  of  a 
migrating  party,  and  carried  their  household  imple- 
ments, caffee-jees,  servants,  and  attendants.  Soon 
after,  we  entered  the  narrow  width  of  the  “ Soulinck 
Mouth  ” of  the  Danube  ; and  after  running  awhile 
through  its  prairie-like  flats,  we  passed  out  into  the 
Euxine.  We  were  not  fairly  at  sea  until  evening,  and 
then  commenced  a realization  of  its  description  by 
Byron.  Its  waters  run  in  a short  choppy  sea,  and  even 
when  it  is  only  a little  troubled,  you  feel  most  squeam- 
ishly, on  the  Black  Sea. 

Still  the  Euxine  has  its  beauties,  and  as  you  pass 
in  sight  of  the  coast,  there  are  some  pretty  bold  banks, 
and  occasionally  the  ruin  of  an  old  Byzantian  church. 
The  shores  have  a very  chalky  aspect,  and  the  town 
of  Varna,  the  first  Turkish  place  you  enter,  is  full  of 
novelty  and  charming  variety. 

Here  terminated  this  agreeable  trip  of  ten  days 


198 


BANKS  OF  THE  DANUBE. 


down  the  Danube.  Along  its  banks  lie  all  the  differ- 
ent lands  of  Servia,  Hungary,  Wallachia,  Moldavia, 
Gallicia,  Bulgaria,  Russia,  and  Turkey.  The  weather 
was  unusually  favorable  during  the  entire  journey,  and 
as  our  passengers  were  of  all  nations,  all  their  various 
tongues  were  spoken  on  board. 


TUEKE  Y. 


THE  EUXINE. 

The  morning  after  we  left  Varna,  we  were  at- 
tracted by  the  appearance  of  a fellow-passenger,  who 
seemed  from  his  bearing  a man  of  more  than  ordinary 
parts  and  authority.  We  took  the  license  of  travel- 
lers, to  address  him  a few  remarks  and  inquiries  about 
the  country  we  were  visiting.  We  saluted  him  in 
French,  as  we  were  quite  certain  he  was  not  a Turk, 
although  he  spoke  their  language  fluently ; he  was 
covered  with  tarboosh  and  waited  on  by  a proper  Mus- 
sulman. He  replied  in  English , that  he  was  a native 
of  Hamburgh,  and  had  been  long  useful  to  the  admi- 
nistration of  the  Turkish  Empire.  Barring  this  little 
show  of  vanity,  we  found  him  an  agreeable  and  highly 
intelligent  gentleman,  well  conversant  with  four  or  five 
languages,  and  of  great  benefit  to  us  in  pointing  out 
the  individual  features  of  the  land  by  which  we  were 


200 


LIFE  IN  THE  BALKAN  MOUNTAINS. 


then  passing.  He  informed  us  that  he  had  just  return- 
ed from  a delightful  journey  through  the  heart  of  Bul- 
garian Turkey,  whither  he  had  been  attracted  in  an 
historical  search  to  discover  the  line  of  march  which 
was  taken  by  Alexander  and  Darius  in  their  passage 
through  this  region  ; and  he  was  happy  in  the  belief 
that  his  investigations  had  not  been  fruitless.  By  the 
aid  of  certain  wise  Dervishes,  he  had  succeeded  in 
collecting  positive  evidence  of  the  existence  of  a cer- 
tain Syriac  monumental  stone,  inscribed  in  the  arrow- 
headed  Cunic  character,  which  is  mentioned  in  the  ac- 
counts left  by  Darius,  as  located  by  him  at  the  fountain 
source  of  a stream  which  divided  itself  in  many  dif- 
ferent rivulets  at  that  point ; and  in  the  traditions  of 
those  priests,  who  are  in  Turkey  the  sole  depositaries 
of  learning,  there  was  mention  of  the  fact  of  such 
stones  having  been  seen,  and  attracting  particular  no- 
tice from  their  character  in  a language  which  had  long 
grown  obsolete,  and  was  unintelligible  to  the  wisest  of 
their  scholars.  In  speaking  of  the  inhabitants  of  those 
districts  which  lie  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Balkan  Moun- 
tains, he  observed,  that  there  alone  are  the  Turks  to  be 
viewed  in  their  primitive  simplicity  and  vigor  ; that 
he  had  seldom  seen  so  happy  and  independent  a pea- 
santry ; that  he  found  them  possessed  of  not  only  all 
the  comforts,  but  luxuries  of  life  ; and  during  his  whole 
travels  through  these  unfrequented  provinces,  he  never 


'■fcftr- 


/ t -v  . 


*1 


THE  MOUTH  OF  THE  BOSPHORUS  . 


MOUTH  OF  THE  BOSPHORUS. 


201 


felt  insecure  in  his  person,  or  lacked  in  any  of  the 
courtesies  or  attentions  of  civilized  life.  It  must  how- 
ever be  considered,  that  he  was  protected  by  the  august 
and  ever-dreaded  Firman  or  Royal  Seal ; and  to  him 
they  did  not  merit  the  reproach  of  their  world-spread 
title  of  “ barbarians/' 

We  continued  our  conversation  at  varying  inter- 
vals, now  touching  on  the  construction  of  the  Turkish 
language,  which  is  a derivation  from  Persian,  Turkish, 
and  Arabic  roots,  and  again  interesting  ourselves  in  a 
recital  of  those  recent  discoveries  in  Persia,  which 
have  been  just  published  to  the  world  by  Mr.  Layard, 
and  embracing  some  remarkable  traces  of  the  ruins  of 
Ancient  Nineveh ; when  our  attention  was  suddenly 
turned  to  the  bustling  and  active  scene  of  preparation 
around  us,  among  the  scattered  groups  of  Turks,  who 
had  risen  from  their  attitudes  of  prayer,  the  salaam  and 
divan  ; and  whilst  some  were  busy  in  collecting  their 
household  wares  and  furniture,  others  were  folding 
afresh  their  clean  white  turbans,  trimming  their  pipes, 
or  packing  up  their  narguilees,  previous  to  our  arrival 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Bosphorus. 


THE  BOSPHORUS. 

The  opening  scene  of  the  Bosphorus  is  grand. 
You  enter  these  straits  where  the  protruding  shores  of 


202 


CASTLES EUROPE  AND  ASIA. 


two  opposite  continents  look  down  upon  the  dark  and 
abrupt  mass  of  the  rocks  “ Simpligades,”  which  lull 
the  rough  and  stormy  waves  of  the  Euxine  into  calm 
repose.  That  bold  coast,  bristling  with  Saracenic 
towers  and  mounted  with  heavy  cannon,  is  soon  suc- 
ceeded by  the  overhanging  heights  of  Belgrade,  which 
are  crowned  by  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  aqueduct,  and 
followed  by  gentler  undulating  hills,  which  inclose  the 
dark  waters  of  that  channel  within  the  charming  bay 
of  Buyukadere. 

Your  sail  from  this  point,  and  even  for  twenty 
miles,  embraces  a succession  of  charming  landscapes 
and  views  of  unrivalled  beauty ; and  as  you  pass 
through  the  narrowing  straits  at  the  outlet  of  the  bay, 
you  glance  back  on  the  lofty  summits  of  the  Asiatic 
shore,  and  over  the  terraced  slopes  of  those  sunny 
banks,  glowing  in  all  the  richness  of  oriental  foliage, 
and  basking  in  all  the  fervor  of  bright  sunshine  and 
reflected  sea. 

Wildly  runs  its  current  within  the  now  approach- 
ing headlands  of  two  opposite  continents,  as  its  waters 
chafe  the  base  of  the  castle  of  Europe  ; whilst  dark 
cypresses  and  umbrella  pines  mournfully  look  down 
over  the  ruins  of  this  dismantled  fortress  ; and,  across 
the  stream,  rise  the  bolder  outlines  of  Asia’s  strong- 
hold, which  guards  the  soft  vales  of  the  valley  Goksu, 
and  those  beautiful  sweet  waters  of  the  sunny  south. 


CAIQUES DWELLINGS. 


203 


You  do  not  fail  to  observe  the  rich  contrast  of  these 
woody  heights,  as  they  deck  both  margins  with  varied 
beauty.  On  one  side  thick  masses  of  northern  forest 
cluster  around  the  villas  which  dot  the  hillside,  and 
hanging  gardens  fall  from  parapet  and  terrace  clothing 
these  declivities  in  all  varieties  of  shade  and  verdure. 
On  the  other  shore,  the  softer  skies  of  the  orient  re- 
lieve luxuriant  pastures  of  a lovelier  green,  and  the  gay 
foliage  of  tropical  fruit  and  flower ; whilst  the  air  is 
redolent  with  sweet  fragrance  of  jessamine  and  orange, 
wafted  by  Zephyr  through  groves  of  rhododendrons 
and  acacias. 

There  is  a magical  effect  in  the  increasing  and 
moving  loveliness  of  these  scenes,  and  the  landscape 
warms  with  interest  as  you  are  borne  onward  in  your 
approach  to  the  city.  All  is  now  life  and  animation. 
Caiques  of  every  size,  holding  in  their  prows  bouquets 
of  fresh  flowers,  propitiatory  offerings  to  the  waves, 
and  brilliant  with  the  gaudy  colors  of  the  richly  cos- 
tumed passengers,  move  upon  the  surface  of  those 
waters  ; and  long  flocks  of  wild  fowl  hurry  by,  skim- 
ming over  the  dancing  billows,  in  perpetual  motion, 
doomed,  in  the  legends  of  the  Turks,  “ to  hover,  like 
evil  spirits,  without  rest  for  ever/'  The  shores  are 
now  lined  with  the  dwellings  of  Armenian  and  Turk, 
Frank  and  Jew,  each  distinguished  by  their  peculiar 
colors  of  red,  yellow,  and  white  : beyond  are  the  pal 


204 


HARBOR  OF  STAMBOUL. 


aces  of  the  resident  Ministers  and  Grandees;  all  follow- 
ing to  fill  up  that  harmonious  whole,  which  enchants 
the  sight,  until  the  Aladdin  Palace  of  the  Sultan  fronts 
upon  the  bay,  whence  you  are  allured  by  a succession 
of  beautiful  views  to  the  very  entrance  of  the  Porte. 

Truly,  there  is  no  such  approach  to  any  other  city 
in  the  world ; such  a mosaic  of  rich  palaces  and  land- 
scape, charming  scenery  and  lovely  skies ! Such  a 
combination  of  effects,  such  rich  contrasts  and  variety 
of  moving  pictures ! 

This  mingling  of  beauties,  this  extravagance  in  the 
lavished  gifts  of  nature,  forms  but  a part  of  the  won- 
ders of  the  land,  and  unites  with  the  Bosphorus,  its 
castles  and  towers,  bays  and  inlets,  hills  and  forests, 
villas  and  villages,  sunny  prospects  and  delightful  vales, 
mosques  and  minarets,  summer  palaces  and  kiosks, 
fountains  and  baths,  to  frame  in  unison  a whole,  which 
with  the  suburbs  and  environs,  coast  scenery  and  seas, 
claims  for  Stamboul  pre-eminently  above  all  of  earth’s 
cities,  its  reputation  and  its  name  of  the  Sublime 
Porte. 


STAMBOUL. 

In  the  year  1263  of  the  Hegira,  we  weighed  anchor 
and  dropped  astern  at  the  end  of  the  Golden  Horn, 
directly  under  Seraglio  Point.  We  then  looked 


SCENE  ON  THE  WHARF. 


205 


around  on  our  position  and  found  ourselves  somewhat 
in  advance  of  Scutari  in  Asia,  not  far  from  Leander’s 
Tower,  but  much  nearer  to  Tophane  than  to  the  tow- 
er of  Galata,  or  the  hilly  heights  of  Pera. 

Before  us  rose  the  city  of  Constantinople,  with  its 
numerous  mosques  and  minarets  crowning  the  sum- 
mits of  her  seven  hills,  and  brooding  over  the  crescent 
of  the  Golden  Horn,  stretched  its  length  over  to  the 
Sea  of  Marmora,  and  within,  as  far  up  as  the  cypress 
groves  of  Eyoub. 

We  waited  awhile,  watching  the  crowd  of  caiques 
which  darted  from  the  shore  at  the  first  news  of  our 
arrival,  and  were  amused  at  the  vociferous  cries  and 
clamorous  chattering  of  the  boatmen,  as  they  wrangled 
and  tossed  about  their  little  barks : so  eager  were  they 
to  be  freighted  with  our  persons  and  our  charges. 

In  the  midst  of  two  or  three  fights,  and  with  no  little 
risk  of  being  pitched  overboard,  in  the  crazy  balancing 
of  these  precarious  little  crafts,  we  secured  a passage, 
and  were  pulled  ashore  to  a landing  at  Tophane. 

Here  we  were  met  by  a crowd  of  hungry  Greeks 
and  a motley  crew  of  Turkish  boys,  pressing  upon  us 
the  qualities  of  their  lank  steeds  on  which  they  offered 
to  convey  us  up  to  Pera.  We  got  rid  of  their  importu- 
nities by  taking  two,  and  then  started  off  and  away, 
with  a miserably  little  raggoul  hanging  on  to  our  tails 
and  running  behind,  whipping  and  hallooing  through  the 


206 


UP  THE  HILL  TO  PERA. 


street,  to  the  astonishment  of  those  solemn  Turks,  who 
were  working  in  their  low  booths  by  the  roadside,  and 
to  the  utter  dismay  of  some  straggling  females,  bound 
up  in  yashmac  and  ferigee,  waddling  through  the  mud 
of  the  narrow  streets ; who,  showing  but  a bundle  of 
green  cloth,  wide  leggins,  and  white  head-dress,  seemed 
to  all  the  world  more  like  aldermanic  turtles  walking 
upright,  than  what  we  had  been  wont  to  look  upon  as 
“ the  gentler  and  loving  sex/' 

Dash  and  splash!  up  we  ride  through  thick  and 
thin,  and  round  the  gay  stucco  of  the  fountain  of  To- 
phane,  borne  upward  and  onward  through  the  gates 
and  over  the  walls  into  the  limits  of  Pera,  where  a poor 
Turkish  guard  was  walking  his  round,  with  fez  and 
musket ; he  looked  quite  disconsolate  at  the  loss  of  his 
flowing  robes  in  the  protruding  fulness  of  his  over- 
stuffed  European  inexpressibles.  Then,  onward  we 
hurried,  in  breathless  haste,  to  be  lodged  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  Frank's  quarter. 

In  a few  moments  our  porters  brought  in  our  trunks, 
and  we  found  ourselves  in  the  snug  apartments  of 
Madame  Guissepina  Yitelli,  in  the  upper  side  of  Pera. 
It  took  us  a short  time  to  recover  our  wonted  calm- 
ness and  ease ; and  it  was  only  at  late  breakfast  that 
our  party  assembled  to  discuss  the  many  curious  ob- 
jects we  had  then  seen,  even  in  our  short  ride  from 
the  wharf  to  the  hotel. 


TURKISH  MILITARY. 


207 


PERA. 

It  is  a peculiar  feature  in  the  Frank’s  quarter,  that 
almost  all  your  views  embrace  the  outline  of  a grave- 
yard. The  “ petit  champs  des  morts,”  at  Pera,  stretches 
around  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and,  in  every  direction,  you 
look  out  on  the  spindle  cone  of  dark  cypresses  mourn- 
fully aslant  over  turbaned  tombstones  or  the  new-made 
grave.  Pera  is  properly  the  Franks’  city,  and  here 
only  Europeans  are  permitted  to  reside.  At  table  we 
found  our  fellow-passenger  of  the  Danube,  and  now 
learned  that  it  was  no  less  a personage  than  General 
Joachimo  Jerkins,  who  had  been  instrumental  in  cloth- 
ing the  Turkish  army  in  European  garments,  and  in 
making  them  look  so  sheepish  under  the  change,  that 
there  appeared  but  one  more  step  to  their  total  degra- 
dation, and  that  was,  to  make  them  eunuchs  to  guard 
the  Seraglio. 

Our  conversation  naturally  turned  on  our  utter  ig- 
norance of  Turkey,  Turkish,  or  the  Turks,  and  we  were 
fit  subjects  for  all  those  instructive  stories,  to  which  we 
listened  from  our  Hamburgh  eftendi. 

As  it  rained  all  day  we  assembled  within  doors, 
but  took  immediately  to  our  ottomans  and  pipes  ; and 
whilst  we  sat  cross-legged,  listened  to  many  a cock- 
and-bull  story  of  the  old  days  of  the  Janissaries  and 


208 


WALK  INTO  THE  CITY. 


their  bloody  deeds,  when  they  were  wont  to  amuse 
themselves  by  throwing  people  into  the  fire,  and  nailing 
poor  bakers  by  their  ears  to  their  shop  doors,  for  deal- 
ing out  light  bread  to  their  customers.  To  add  to  our 
horror,  the  Cholera  was  then  in  progress,  and  a few 
cases  had  been  announced  by  the  regular  board  at  the 
Porte. 

Thus  the  day  passed  off  between  pipes  and  tobacco, 
as  our  party  of  strangers  made  eager  inquiries  abo,ut 
the  health  office  and  the  quarantine,  the  modes  of  es- 
cape and  the  fires  ; and  thus,  in  the  midst  of  varied  ap- 
prehensions, fear  of  death  by  disease,  by  fire  or  water, 
we  closed  our  first  day  among  the  Franks  at  Pera, 
when  each  stole  away  to  bed  by  the  light  of  the  moon, 
and  to  slumbers,  only  to  be  disturbed  by  the  most  dread- 
ful shrieking  of  caterwauling  cats,  barking  dogs,  or  the 
coarse  gruff  calls  of  that  wandering  old  watchman 
who  goes  poking  his  way  through  the  mud,  by  the 
light  of  his  glimmering  lantern,  as  he  rolls  his  rattle 
and  cries  out,  “All’s  well,”  or  “ Yangan  var  ! Yangan 
var!” 


CITY  OF  THE  SULTAN. 

The  next  morning  all  were  eager  to  enter  that  city, 
where  no  European  is  allowed  to  reside.  We  soon 
made  up  a party,  and  in  the  rain  walked  over  the  hill 


PROSPECTS  OVER  SEA  AND  LAND. 


209 


of  Pera,  through  its  avenues  of  tombstones,  until  we 
entered  the  gates  of  the  old  walls  of  Galata ; and  then 
turning  round  the  corner  of  the  guard-house,  were  led 
by  its  old  graybeard  porter  to  the  tower  of  the  Geno- 
vese. By  the  proper  application  of  backsheesh  slipped 
into  the  hands  of  the  guard,  we  were  permitted  to 
mount  to  the  Fire  Gallery  to  obtain  a sight  of  the  dis- 
tant city,  stretched  out  along  the  shores  of  the  “ Horn.” 
The  view  from  the  outer  balcony  has  no  superior ; you 
embrace  the  whole  extent  of  the  landscape,  and  look 
out  at  all  points  of  the  compass,  and  the  scope  reaches 
far  up  the  Bosphorus,  giving  a finer  interior  prospect 
over  the  surrounding  hills  of  the  suburbs,  and  extend- 
ing beyond  the  city,  to  the  Sea  of  Marmora  and  the 
groups  of  the  Princess’s  Islands.  The  first  sight  of 
the  metropolis  and  its  outlines  is  truly  glorious,  and  as 
the  eye  sweeps  along  over  the  thousand  minarets  and 
mosques  glowing  in  all  the  dazzling  brightness  of  sun- 
light, the  mind  is  enchanted  by  the  beauty  of  the  scene. 
We  descended,  and  walked  down  the  hill  through  the 
old  Genovese  part  of  Galata,  now  occupied  by  the 
Frank  merchants,  and  as  the  business  quarter  of  the 
Jews,  Armenians,  and  Christians.  On  Fair  days  the 
streets  are  filled  with  gay  groups  of  linen-drapers  and 
traders,  and  goods  are  exposed  for  sale  in  the  open  air. 
In  going  down  the  narrow  stone  steps  of  this  quarter, 
you  are  seized  by  the  most  importunate  race  of  beg- 


210 


CROWDS SCENES  AT  THE  BRIDGE. 


gars  who  sit  by  the  wayside  asking  alms.  From  the 
time  you  enter  this  rocky  lane,  until  you  escape  into 
the  main  avenue,  your  ears  are  dinned  with  back- 
sheesh, “ Allah  ! Allah !”  “ Howardge  !”  “ Ingleez ! 

Grush!  Moneta!”  from  all  kinds  of  voices,  and  at 
every  hour  of  the  day.  They  are  professional  beggars, 
and  a jolly  and  gay  life  they  lead. 

As  we  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill,  the  streets 
which  ran  by  the  river  side  became  narrower  and 
more  filthy ; and  under  the  projecting  eaves  of  the  low 
cupboard-looking  shops,  are  the  various  trades  of  this 
section.  You  emerge  from  this  hole  of  wretchedness 
into  the  wider  passage  of  the  bridge,  and  here  at  the 
pier  heads  you  are  sure  to  see  those  gorgeous  groups 
which  can  alone  be  had  from  the  oriental  crowd,  and, 
only,  at  the  outlet  of  the  bridge  over  to  the  city.  There 
are  broad-tail  Armenians  and  pointed-capped  Persians, 
pilgrims  from  Mecca,  Greeks,  Jews,  Franks,  and  sol- 
diers, mixed  up  with  women,  Arabs,  shipping,  and  pre- 
senting such  an  odd  variety  of  personages  and  objects 
as  fail  not  to  divert  a stranger,  or  confuse  you  in  the 
labyrinths  of  this  thronged  gangway. 

I have  lingered  for  hours  on  that  bridge,  to  watch 
the  movement  of  those  animated  masses,  and  to  gather 
some  insight  into  the  manners  of  this  novel  species ; 
and  here  have  enjoyed  scenes  of  never  failing  beauty, 
in  the  stirring  motion  of  the  waters,  and  those  striking 


THE  BAZAARS. 


211 


pictures  of  oriental  life  which  are  continually  afforded 
within  the  limits  of  the  Crescent  Horn,  and  charm  the 
sight,  by  that  wondrous  variety  of  views  which  is  here 
gathered  of  the  city,  its  suburbs,  and  opposite  Scutari 
in  Asia. 

BAZAARS. 

We  first  entered  the  bazaar  for  drugs,  which  is  by 
far  the  most  attractive  and  best  constructed.  Those 
old  venders  in  turbaned  head-dress  are  venerable  mo- 
numents of  their  success  in  life ; and  as  they  sit  among 
the  brilliant  colors  of  their  various  drugs,  you  can 
hardly  distinguish  them  from  jalap  and  senna — so  solemn 
and  knowing  seem  they,  and  so  reverential,  with  their 
superb  beards  and  full  flowing  robes. 

The  architectural  merits  of  this  bazaar  claim  notice, 
and  the  various  groupings  of  its  interior  present  the 
most  perfect  and  characteristic  subjects  for  the  sketch- 
book. 

From  this  we  went  onward  to  the  main  bazaars. 
These  extend  over  a large  surface  of  the  lower  city, 
and  from  one  long  wide  avenue  branch  out  in  different 
arms,  which  are  inclosed  and  lighted  from  above,  and 
give  to  them  the  aspect  of  a series  of  inclosed  streets. 
Each  division  is  usually  devoted  to  one  trade,  and  they 
are  used  by  the  Armenians  and  Turks  in  common 


212 


BARGAINING SIGHT-SEEING. 


Their  sides  furnish  a rich  display  of  wares  and  mate- 
rials, whilst  the  brilliant  array  of  various  goods  scat- 
tered about  in  such  gay  profusion,  pleases  the  eye  by 
its  novelty,  and  from  those  effective  combinations  of 
color,  which  are  so  extremely  attractive.  We  com- 
menced at  once  to  bargain  for  slippers  and  pipes,  and 
by  dint  of  signs,  gesticulations,  and  backsheesh,  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  the  first,  at  fifteen,  and  the  others,  at 
forty  or  fifty  piastres  each.  Having  run  all  through 
the  different  departments,  now  looking  into  the  shoe, 
again  at  the  leather,  the  saddler’s,  the  linendraper’s, 
the  jeweller’s,  the  confectioner’s,  and  the  arms-bazaar, 
which  is  truly  only  an  old  junk-shop,  we  passed  out 
and  returned  to  the  bridge,  peeping  quietly  over  the 
shoulders  of  the  assembled  ladies,  and  striving  to  catch 
a look  under  their  yashmacs , to  learn  whether  there 
was  any  such  thing  as  beauty  in  Turkey. 

Now  once  more  to  the  bridge,  passing  along  those 
narrow  and  muddy  lanes,  lined  with  bazaars  and  filled 
with  the  animated  populace  of  this  densely  crowded 
city,  and  watch  the  eternal  movements  of  these  strange 
people,  hurrying  to  and  fro,  and  gathered  in  groups 
about  the  Customs  and  the  Toll-house  ; whilst  we  bar- 
gain in  Spanish  lingo,  Italian,  or  signs,  with  these  poly- 
glot Jews,  who  are  ever  ready  to  hire  horse  to  “ In- 
gleez,”  and  trot  him  round  to  the  sights  of  the  town. 
A little  boy  runs  behind  you,  and  with  a thousand 


THE  SULTAN  GOING  TO  MOSGIUE. 


213 


grimaces  tries  to  make  himself  intelligent,  with  his 
knowing  looks  and  funny  attitudes,  as  he  lashes  your 
pony  and  urges  him  on  by  the  shore  of  the  Horn  and 
the  shipping,  to  the  “ Gate  ” of  the  Palace — over  the 
point  and  across  the  Atmeidan — out  by  the  Mosque, 
through  its  courtyard  and  gateway,  to  the  most  remote 
districts  of  the  Capital. 

You  can  get  one  of  the  horses  for  ten  piastres  a 
day,  but  a few  more  will  give  great  joy  to  that  nimble 
raggoul,  who  follows  afoot  and  guides  without  murmur 
or  groan. 

the  MosauE. 

It  is  Friday,  and  the  Mussulman’s  Festival,  a day 
of  general  rejoicing,  of  gala,  and  prayer.  Where  goes 
the  Sultan  to-day,  at  the  hour  of  mosque  ? The  can- 
nons roar  and  belch  out  fire  and  smoke  from  the  old 
Point  of  the  Seraglio.  The  wild  voice  of  the  crier 
shrieks  from  every  Muezzim’s  tower,  to  call  the  faith- 
ful to  devotion  and  the  Prophet.  Ten  thousand  bloody 
flags  flaunt  with  the  wind  from  the  mast-heads  of  the 
shipping.  The  day  is  as  lovely  as  the  first  dawn  of 
spring,  and  the  Bosphorus  is  filled  with  caiques  in  rea- 
diness to  start  in  the  train  of  the  Sultan.  Again  these 
cannons  boom  over  the  water.  The  guard  mounts  at 
the  palace,  and  the  drum  beats  as  the  royal  barges  slip 


214 


ROYAL  PROCESSION. 


out  of  the  gate  of  the  palace,  and  the  Sultan  is  wafted 
in  those  beautiful  barques  to  the  Mosquet  at  Kullu 
Bagdashi. 

These  tournament  yachts  move  like  swans  over 
the  clear  blue  waters  of  the  placid  Bosphorus.  Their 
prows  are  decked  with  the  eagles’  beaks,  and  as  they 
move  under  the  full  stroke  of  their  twenty-eight  oars- 
men, they  seem  to  fly  like  blooded  coursers,  springing 
under  spur  and  mettle.  Under  a rich  canopy  of  silks 
sits  the  Sultan,  on  his  divans  of  velvet — a young  and 
emaciated,  senseless,  voluptuary ; and  as  the  light  waves 
ripple  under  the  galley’s  speed,  he  listens  to  the  chant 
of  the  billows,  and  is  lulled  in  soft  repose  and  forget- 
fulness by  the  well-feathered  stroke  of  his  Arnaout 
boatmen,  whose  full-sped  oars  part  the  sea  like  cime- 
tars  keen,  as  they  glimmer  in  the  sun  like  falchions  of 
gold  “ dripping  pearls  from  their  quivering  edges.” 

The  procession  stops  at  the  shore  of  Asia,  and  the 
Monarch  moves  to  the  worship  of  Allah,  attended  by 
his  Court  and  his  household  troops.  In  a half-hour  the 
service  is  over,  and  he  goes  to  visit  the  Cavalry  Bar- 
racks ; whilst  within,  his  troops  are  running  about  in 
confusion  and  disorder,  unable  to  know  at  which  door 
his  Majesty  will  reappear.  At  last  he  comes  down  by 
the  grand  stairs  to  the  shore,  and  returning  the  saluta- 
tions of  his  army — a stifled,  stuffed,  croaking  huzza ! 
— he  is  led  again  to  his  barges ; and  they  move  off  in 
the  direction  of  Begliebed. 


TURKISH  PIC-NICS. 


215 


GOKSU. 

Our  caique  moved  upward  to  visit  the  vale  of 
Goksu  and  its  beautiful  fountain  of  the  sweet  waters 
of  Asia.  This  rich  plain  stretches  its  length  before 
the  white  walls  of  the  castle  beyond,  and  with  the 
valley  fills  up  the  space  to  the  base  of  the  surrounding 
hills.  It  is  one  of  the  choicest  resorts  of  the  pic-nic 
parties  of  the  city,  and  in  fine  weather  you  will  see 
here  many  of  the  Hareem  of  the  Sultan  and  Grandees 
of  the  Palace.  On  such  occasions,  in  the  absence  of 
jealous  lords,  the  Frank  may  catch  a smile  from  those 
dark-eyed  and  curtained  beauties  ; and  they  are  not 
scrupulous  to  lower  their  barrier  yashmacs , to  disclose 
a fair  cheek  and  a full  rosy  lip  to  the  eye  of  the  admir- 
ing Christian  dogs. 

There  were  many  of  these  fair  ones  scattered  in 
easy  postures  over  the  ground,  sipping  sherbets  and 
sweetmeats  on  the  raised  wall  of  the  pretty  foun- 
tain ; and  near  by,  their  Arabas  were  at  rest,  whilst 
their  eunuchs  were  watching  the  oxen,  which  were 
grazing  under  the  trees  in  the  distance.  There  are 
few  spots  on  the  shore  of  Asia  which  surpass  this  in 
beauty  of  scenery  ; and  from  this  midway  point  of  the 
Bosphorus  you  have  a fine  view  of  the  shipping,  the 
opposite  villas  of  the  European  coast,  the  distant  city, 


216 


MUSIC  AT  NOONTIDE. 


and  the  rural  beauty  of  the  interior.  Afar  off  in  the 
valley,  troups  of  soldiers  were  engaged  in  foot-races 
and  games  of  ball ; and  seated  under  the  groves  along 
the  banks  of  the  stream  “ Goksu,”  were  other  pictu- 
resque groups  of  parties  of  Armenians  and  Greeks. 
We  drank  of  the  water  of  the  fountain,  the  purest  in 
the  East,  which  supplies  the  goblets  of  the  Sultan, 
when  it  is  taken  to  the  city,  sealed  up,  signed,  and 
bottled  by  “ special  authority/'  lest  subtle  poison  might 
be  put  in  the  royal  cup. 

On  our  return  we  passed  under  the  gates  of  the 
new  palace,  almost  near  enough  to  see  the  movements 
of  the  inmates  within  ; and  as  we  glided  by  that  of  the 
Sultan's  sister,  we  heard  notes  of  stirring  music,  steal- 
ing through  the  latticed  windows  of  the  harem  at  the 
sleepy  hour  of  noon,  when  the  dancing  girls  are  brought 
in,  and  the  sounds  of  lutes  and  the  tambourines  vie  in 
varying  discord,  to  lull  the  repose  of  the  languishing 
Sultanas. 


SIGHTS. 

The  next  day  we  ascended  again  the  old  Genoese 
Tower  of  Galata,  to  watch  the  superb  effect  of  the 
glorious  sunshine  on  the  city  and  the  Horn,  and  to 
enjoy  those  never-failing  prospects  which  grow  more 
attractive  by  familiarity.  Thence  we  learned  to  call 


THE  SEVEN  TOWERS. 


217 


the  mosques  by  names,  to  fix  their  epochs  in  the  his- 
toric drama  of  that  city,  and  to  trace  the  rise,  pro- 
gress, and  decline  of  an  Empire,  that  had  ruled  from 
those  seven  hills,  which  seemed  typical  of  the  almost 
bodily  transfer  of  “ Dead  Rome  ” from  the  banks  of  the 
Tiber,  to  the  more  romantic  scenes  of  the  Golden 
Horn  and  Bosphorus  ; and  we  looked  round  and  back 
to  the  days  of  Constantine,  and  traced  his  history  in 
the  Mosque  of  Sophia,  and  continued  down,  following 
the  outlines  of  these  hills,  through  the  sequence  of  its 
story,  from  Saint  Sophia  to  the  lesser  mosques  of  Ma- 
homed, Selim,  and  Achmet.  Thence  we  descended, 
crossed  over  the  bridge  to  the  opposite  shore,  where 
we  took  horses,  and  scouted  all  over  the  interior,  while 
we  traced  its  monuments  in  the  Hippodrome  and  Obe- 
lisks, and  the  overhanging  walls  on  the  Sea  of  Mar- 
mora ; getting  glimpses  of  rich  interiors  and  charming 
fountains,  we  hurried  on  through  the  narrow  and 
muddy  streets,  until  nearly  lost  in  a maze  of  lanes  and 
alleys.  We  found  our  way  out  to  the  old  Amphitheatre 
and  Circus,  and  escaped  out  of  all  Turkdom  and  the 
Turks,  to  the  glorious  old  ruins  of  Yeni  Kuoli — the 
stupendous  relics  of  the  “ Seven  Towers  ” — a prison,  a 
dungeon,  and  a wall — and  still  the  noblest  remains  of 
the  glorious  works  of  antiquity,  after  the  Pyramids  and 
Balbec. 

We  rode  outside  the  city,  on  the  open  plain  which 


218 


VIEW  OVER  MARMORA. 


skirts  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  It  was  the  hour  of  sunset 
when  we  reached  the  end  of  this  wall,  projecting  into 
the  water,  and  washed  by  the  ripples  of  the  dimpled 
sea.  There  was  a witchery  in  those  ruins  which 
chained  the  eye  to  a fixed  aspect  of  devotion,  and  led 
back  the  memory  to  the  glories  of  the  unconquered 
Romans.  These  triple-moated  strongholds  may  last 
yet  for  ages  to  come,  and  survive  the  ruins  of  this 
second  Byzantium.  These  crumbling  buttresses  were 
a fit  frame  for  the  evening  scene  before  us,  and  the 
heavy  outworks  and  ponderous  masses  contrasted  rich- 
ly with  the  light  domes  of  the  distant  city,  swelling  in 
aerial  perspective  like  hemispheres  over  the  bosom  of 
the  Bosphorus.  Whilst  the  last  Muezzim  sang  from 
his  lonely  tower,  my  attention  was  called  to  a solitary 
Turk,  who  dropped  his  work,  climbed  on  the  top  of  a 
fallen  block,  and  bending  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  to 
the  East,  poured  forth  his  offering  to  Allah  and  the 
Prophet.  He  himself  seemed  a block  of  that  ruined 
temple,  Man,  and  as  he  knelt  on  stone,  was  no  unfit 
illustration  of  a faith  based  on  dead  works,  which 
trusteth  for  salvation  on  the  boundless  sea  of  hope. 


EYOUB EXCURSIONS. 

The  next  morning,  we  hired  caiques  and  rowed  to 
the  village  of  Eyoub,  situated  at  the  head  of  the  Horn, 


SACRED  MOSQ,UE PURE  OSMANLEES. 


219 


which  here  terminated  in  a small  stream  of  clear  wa- 
ter, flowing  from  its  fountain  near  the  Sultan's  Kiosk. 
On  the  way  you  pass  the  arsenal  near  the  foot  of  the 
Death  Quay,  and  watch  the  receding  shores  of  the 
hills  of  Tophane  and  Pera,  studded  with  cypress  and 
the  white  tombstones  of  these  immense  grave-yards. 
You  now  pass  the  assembled  fleet  at  the  Admiralty, 
and  the  mansion  of  the  Captain  Pacha;  and  at  the 
low  wharf  by  the  walls  of  the  opposite  shore,  you  land 
near  the  fountain  of  the  Mosque  of  Eyoub. 

By  a narrow  footway,  flagged  with  marble  tiles, 
you  walk  through  an  avenue  of  inclosed  cemeteries, 
and  are  struck  with  the  porcelain  likeness  of  these 
ornamental  tombs,  glowing  in  fresh  colors  through  the 
golden  network  of  thin  wire.  At  the  angles  of  the 
path,  you  look  through  the  rich  “ Tarkish”  of  that  em- 
bossed mausoleum,  to  get  a view  of  those  rich  cano- 
pies over  the  coffins  within,  covered  with  rich  shawls 
and  velvets,  and  inclosed  by  a slight  railing  of  rosewood, 
inlaid  with  mother-of-pearl.  Beyond,  you  enter  the 
little  gate  which  shuts  on  the  court  of  the  mosque  of 
this  suburb.  Here  all  the  sultans  are  sworn  in  under 
the  sword  of  the  Prophet,  and  this  spot  is  most  sacred 
in  the  memory  of  the  faithful,  who  regard  it  with  reli- 
gious zeal.  These  villagers  have  all  the  native  simpli- 
city and  bigotry  of  the  pure  Mohammedan,  and  they 
looked  as  if  they  had  never  been  tainted  by  contact 
10 


220 


VALE  OF  THE  SWEET  WATERS. 


with  Frank  or  Dog.  We  could  not  enter  within  the 
sacred  precincts  of  the  temple,  and  were  even  repulsed 
when  we  attempted  by  a black-eyed  Houri,  and  growled 
at  by  a venerable  old  Simon-pure  Turk,  whom  we 
could  not  but  admire  for  the  richness  of  his  costume 
and  long  flowing  beard.  Climbing  up  through  a thick 
array  of  turbaned  tombstones,  we  made  our  way  to  the 
top  of  the  hill,  and  from  its  summit  looked  down  upon 
the  cubed  roofs  of  the  village  beneath  us,  and  over 
the  Horn,  through  the  straits  of  these  narrowing  moun- 
tains, as  it  stretches  its  waters  by  the  sides  of  the  city, 
and  along  the  shores  of  Tophan6,  to  join  the  Bos- 
phorus before  Scutari  in  Asia.  This  view  is  one  of 
the  most  charming  in  the  environs. 

We  descended  to  the  water,  and  moved  onward  to 
ascend  to  the  head  of  the  Bay,  and  entered  within  the 
narrow  banks  of  the  river,  which  can  almost  be 
reached  with  both  oars ; and,  us  we  rounded  the 
curves  of  this  wandering  stream,  we  passed  groups  of 
pleasure  parties  seated  on  carpets  spread  under  the 
shade-trees,  enjoying  the  wild  notes  of  discordant  mu- 
sic, and  smoking  their  chibouques  with  elegant  repose. 
Then  passing  beside  the  low  windows  of  the  Harem, 
we  entered  the  basin,  and  moored  our  boat  close  by 
the  walls  of  the  Summer  Kiosk.  On  the  green  lawn, 
which  spreads  through  the  vale  of  this  Tempe,  were 
numerous  other  parties  of  citizens,  walking  about  the 


PARTY  OF  LION-SEEKERS. 


221 


gardens,  away  from  their  Arabas  and  steeds,  which  were 
at  rest  under  the  trees,  whilst  the  grounds  were  covered 
with  children  and  slaves.  This  pretty  vale  was  much 
frequented  by  the  favorites  of  the  Sultan,  and  not  far 
off  on  the  hills  opposite,  are  the  targets  which  bear  the 
trophies  of  the  royal  bow,  and  show  the  prodigious 
feats  of  his  strength,  by  those  stadia  marked  along  the 
course  of  his  driven  arrows. 

On  the  way  back,  the  music  of  the  Admiralty  band 
stole  over  the  water  across  our  prow ; it  was  a dis- 
cordant jumble  of  incoherent  sounds,  with  little  har- 
mony or  beauty  of  note,  but  evidently  imitative  of 
those  wild  and  sudden  starts  of  feeling  which  can 
alone  arouse  the  senseless  voluptuary  from  his  stupor, 
or  startle  him  into  animation  by  fitful  and  transient 

j°ys- 


THE  FIRMAN. 

Attended  in  due  form  of  Turkish  law,  by  the  august 
person  of  our  Turkoman  and  his  advocate,  our  purse- 
bearer,  our  party  of  ten  set  out  to  be  put  through  the 
“ sights  of  Stamboul.” 

We  were  duly  headed  by  this  sedate  and  solemn 
looking  Mussulman — Cawass  of  our  Embassy — who 
was  armed  cap-a-pie  with  two  heavily  mounted  pistols 
in  belt,  his  short  cimetar  slung  on  one  side,  and  whip 
in  hand ; and  as  he  trudged  heavily  down  the  rough 


222 


FOUNTAIN  AND  MOSQUE  OF  TOPHANE. 


cobble-stone  steps  of  Pera,  we  felt  as  if  all  our  dignity 
was  centred  in  this  Firman ; and  when  we  saw  the 
Osmanlees  retire  before  the  searching  sweep  of  His 
cracking  lash,  we  gloried  in  this  delegation  of  a frac- 
tional part  of  the  powers  of  the  Sultan,  and  our  bosoms 
heaved  with  the  emotions  of  a triumph,  and  a chuckle 
over  the  sublimities  of  the  Porte  Sublime. 

Thus  provided,  we  followed  in  the  train  of  our 
charmed  camel  leader,  and  were  led  into  the  precincts 
of  Tophane,  to  visit  our  first  “ lion/'  the  Mosque  near 
the  edge  of  the  Bosphorus. 

No  one  passes  this  section  of  the  Porte  without 
stopping  to  admire  the  graceful  proportions  and  Ara- 
besque scrollery  of  the  beautiful  fountain  of  Tophane. 
In  the  East,  the  waters  of  life  always  flow  by  the  side 
of  the  temple,  and  this  first  gift  of  heaven  is  always 
open  for  the  use  of  the  faithful  among  that  people,  who 
rank  ablutions  next  to  godliness. 

Before  entering  the  Mosque,  boots  and  over- shoes 
must  be  left  on  the  outer  sill ; and  as  you  enter  under 
the  uplifted  curtain  of  the  leather  roll,  you  must  put  on 
your  slippers  or  walk  in  stocking  feet. 

The  interior  of  this  edifice  is  simply  beautiful,  and 
is  remarkable  for  the  support  of  its  light  dome,  which 
is  without  pillars.  Around  the  sides  of  the  walls,  and 
above  the  line  of  the  windows,  an  Arabic  poem  was 
richly  depicted  on  an  elevated  scroll,  and  in  the  four 


INTERIOR  OF  MOSQUE. 


223 


niches  of  the  corners,  the  names  of  Mahomet,  Osman, 
and  their  immediate  successors,  were  emblazoned  in 
heavy  gilt  letters  and  mouldings.  Towards  the  east, 
and  elevated  about  midway  from  the  ceiling,  stands 
the  inclosed  passage  to  the  pulpit,  which  is  ascended 
by  a narrow  stairway  where  the  Koran  is  expounded  : 
here  the  reader’s  desk  rears  its  pointed  cone  much  like 
a huge  extinguisher,  and  seems  ready  to  doff  two  large 
candles  which  stand  beneath  at  the  north  of  the  priest’s 
position. 

Just  opposite  the  reader’s  stand,  and  facing  the 
Bosphorus,  are  inclosed  apartments  for  the  women, 
and  to  the  east  of  their  gallery  runs  the  rich  railing 
around  the  elevated  throne  of  the  Sultan.  The  inte- 
rior of  these  mosques  is  simple,  and  without  ornament 
or  niches.  They  all  have  a spacious  court  and  foun- 
tain, and  under  the  porches  of  the  quadrangle  are  the 
cloisters,  which  are  usually  occupied  by  their  schools 
and  Imaums. 

Hence  we  passed  to  the  shore  and  took  caiques  for 
the  visit  to  the  Porte.  These  beautiful  boats  are  mere 
shells  of  highly  polished  walnut,  often  tastefully  carved 
and  ornamented  with  swans’  and  eagles’  heads  at  the 
prows.  They  are  as  fickle  as  canoes,  and  you  must 
sit  perfectly  still  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  in  order  to 
keep  them  steady. 

The  passage  of  the  Horn  from  Tophane  to  the 


i 


224 


GOLDEN  HORN OLD  SERAGLIO. 


Porte  presents  one  of  the  finest  and  most  striking  views 
of  the  city  and  the  Bosphorus.  Those  profound  wa- 
ters float  the  largest  vessels.  You  pass  under  the 
walls  of  houses,  among  the  shipping,  surrounded  by 
ten  thousand  caiques,  now  looking  up  to  the  heights 
of  Galata,  and  then  at  the  opposite  tower  of  Stamboul. 
Your  view  embraces  the  whole  of  the  Horn,  as  well  as 
the  opposite  shores  of  Scutari ; then,  across  the  stream, 
to  where  the  graceful  pyramidical  terraces  of  Seraglio 
Point  swell  with  such  rich  masses  from  the  water,  and 
lift  their  form  from  its  shores  in  a succession  of  most 
pleasing  groups  of  houses  and  palaces,  whilst  kiosk 
and  white  walls  intermingled  with  the  foliage  of  plan- 
tain and  cypresses  contrast  grandly  with  the  variously 
colored  roofs  and  verandahs,  the  tall  tapering  spires  of 
minarets,  and  the  rich  effects  of  this  mingling  of  earth, 
sky,  and  water.  We  landed  at  the  foot  of  the  Porte 
Divan,  and  thence  walked  under  the  outer  gate,  within 
the  walls  of  the  old  Seraglio.  This  palace  is  no  longer 
inhabited  by  the  Sultan,  for  after  the  destruction  of  the 
Janissaries  on  the  Atmeidan,  Mahmoud  had  not  heart 
to  linger  around  scenes  so  pregnant  with  blood  and 
treachery.  Those  now  deserted  halls  are  very  pret- 
tily planned,  and  furnished  in  excellent  taste,  without 
excess  of  ornament.  The  rooms  are  light  and  airy, 
and  those  apartments  destined  for  the  Harem  are 
hung  in  blue  satin  damask,  with  their  ceilings  painted 


FOUNTAINS  AND  COURTS. 


225 


in  arabesque  and  gold,  with  slight  borders  of  stucco. 
Their  distribution  is  in  a common  hall,  around  which 
are  four  alcoves  somewhat  elevated  on  the  floor,  fur- 
nished with  rich  divans,  and  giving  fine  views  out  on 
the  inner  courts  and  gardens,  or  glimpses  over  the 
Bosphorus  and  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  The  position  of 
the  old  Seraglio  on  this  tongue  of  land,  running  out 
into  both  seas,  affords  a combination  of  views  and  a 
beauty  of  situation  which  is  unequalled  in  Europe  ; 
whilst  its  hanging  garden,  fountains,  and  richly  orna- 
mented gates,  which  open  on  the  sea, — its  cypresses, 
plantains,  and  kiosks,  interior  views  and  porches, 
with  grand  masses  of  foliage,  produce  a harmony  of 
effect  and  landscape,  which  has  no  parallel  in  the 
world. 

Within  the  circuit  of  its  walls,  the  treasury  and 
stables,  throne-room  and  library,  present  beautiful  and 
varied  specimens  of  the  pure  old  Moorish  style,  and 
the  pillars  of  the  inner  court  embrace  every  variety  of 
marble  which  can  be  found  in  the  desecrated  temples 
of  Greece,  which  have  contributed  to  its  construc- 
tion. 

Poor,  emaciated  eunuchs  were  set  as  guards  before 
the  porches  of  these  different  edifices  ; they  seemed 
wretched  abortions  of  humanity,  and  as  if  every  spark 
of  vitality  had  fled  from  their  marred  bodies.  Since 
Mohammed,  that  service  has  been  performed  by  black 


226 


CHURCH  OF  ST.  IRENE. 


slaves,  whose  negative  color  precludes  one  half  of  the 
bestiality  and  vacuity  of  expression. 

By  this  time  we  arrived  under  the  spacious  porches 
of  the  magnificent  gate,  which,  from  the  highly  orna- 
mented and  costly  nature  of  its  materials,  has  given  to 
the  Palace  the  title  of  the  “ Sublime  Porte.”  By  this 
gateway  the  Sultan  always  proceeds,  and  on  all  state 
occasions  there  was  no  other  access  to  the  Court. 
Through  these  portals  have  passed  the  decapitated 
heads  of  Janissaries,  and  even  Sultans.  Beyond  this, 
outside  the  inner  walls,  is  the  Arsenal,  which  is  now 
used  only  as  a collection  of  antique  arms  and  costumes, 
and  is  hallowed  to  Christian  sight  from  its  having  been 
originally  the  old  Church  of  St.  Irene. 

Under  the  outer  porch,  in  the  lower  story  of  this 
building,  the  Sultan  has  commenced  a marshalling  of 
some  of  the  antiquarian  objects  of  his  kingdom,  and 
has  already  formed  a collection  which  is  creditable  to 
his  taste  and  that  of  his  people,  who  have  hitherto 
stripped  all  the  monuments  of  Greece,  and  buried  thou- 
sands of  columns  within  the  patchwork  of  the  Seraglio 
sea-wall. 

In  the  outer  court,  the  only  one  in  which  the  pub- 
lic are  admitted,  are  groups  of  noble  trees,  one  of 
which  is  the  patriarch  of  a forest,  and  dates  back  to  the 
primitive  ages  of  the  city.  This  oak  is  so  large  that 
three  of  us  could  scarcely  reach  round  its  trunk,  and 


MOSQUE  OF  SAINT  SOPHIA. 


227 


by  its  side,  towards  the  city,  is  the  mint,  an  unpretend- 
ing building,  without  even  a feature  of  Turkish  archi- 
tecture to  recommend  its  notice. 

We  then  passed  out  of  the  Porte  from  the  divan  of 
the  ministers,  and  crossed  over,  through  narrow  streets 
and  bazaars,  to  the  gates  of  the  outer  court  of  Saint 
Sophia.  The  mosque  was  then  in  a state  of  repair ; 
we  passed  by  the  fountain,  and  entered  under  its  vast 
covered  peristyle  by  the  northern  door,  to  view  the 
grand  proportions  of  its  noble  interior,  still  bearing  the 
external  impress  of  its  original  form  under  Constan- 
tine. Those  vast  columns  in  the  transept  were  taken 
from  the  temple  of  Ephesus,  and  its  ceilings  covered 
with  huge  letters  in  arabesque,  each  one  of  which  is 
taller  than  a man.  As  you  stand  within  the  precincts 
of  the  Holy  East,  you  look  up  and  admire  the  lightness 
of  its  suspended  dome,  and  see  the  half  obliterated 
forms  of  those  cherubim  mosaics  which  were  part  of 
the  original  temple ; for  these  figures  had  been  white- 
washed to  cover  up  these  images,  which  are  not  sanc- 
tioned by  the  Mussulman ; as  they  believe  that  such 
symbols  have  a tendency  to  idolatry,  and  that  they 
must  find  souls  for  every  depiction  of  animated  objects. 

This  vast  mound  is  more  of  a mansion  for  Pande- 
monium than  fit  tabernacle  for  the  Invisible  God,  and 
its  triple  gallery  rises  up  to  the  very  margin  of  the 
dome,  from  the  uppermost  of  which  your  view  down 
10# 


228 


MOSaUE  OF  ACHMET INCIDENT. 


is  infinitely  superb.  On  the  square  of  the  Atmedian 
near  by,  we  entered  the  superb  Mosque  of  Achmet, 
with  its  six  minarets  towering  high  above  its  gilded 
dome,  and  relieved  by  stone  galleries  outside  for  the 
Muez?;im  criers.  The  interior  plan  is  much  the  same 
as  in  all.  The  dome  is  supported  by  four  immense  pi- 
lasters, and  around  the  door  the  galleries  are  sustained 
by  beautiful  columns  taken  from  ancient  temples.  On 
long  wires  stretched  from  pillar  to  pillar,  small  colored 
lamps,  ostrich  eggs,  and  bunches  of  feathers  are  hung, 
and  the  north  galleries  are  filled  by  the  treasure-boxes 
of  the  faithful,  deposited  here  during  their  pilgrimage 
to  Mecca.  Whilst  within,  we  were  amused  by  an  in- 
cident which  tested  the  bigotry  of  these  holy  Imaums. 
On  entering,  we  had  some  of  us  forgotten  to  exchange 
our  boots  for  yellow  slippers,  and  were  treading  upon 
the  rich  carpets  on  the  floor,  quite  rapt  in  observa- 
tion on  objects  around  us,  when  one  of  the  party 
was  seized  by  a zealous  neophyte,  eager  to  show  his 
horror  to  the  priest,  and  his  abhorrence  of  the  taint 
of  a Christian  dog’s  soles.  On  a sudden  he  seized  the 
unsuspecting  spectator,  and  laying  strong  hold  of  one 
foot,  commenced  turning  him  around  the  heel  of  the 
other,  quite  to  the  diversion  of  the  priest  and  the  as- 
sembled worshippers,  until  the  timely  interference  of 
our  Cawass  and  a sight  of  the  Firman  relieved  the 
culprit  from  embarrassment,  and  forced  us  to  retire 


HIPPODROME MOSaUE  OF  BAJAZET. 


229 


through  the  hanging  portals  to  the  outer  gate.  It  was 
a quiet  joke,  no  doubt,  to  the  faithful  Osmanlees,  but 
with  the  sufferer,  led  to  quite  an  inclination  to  slap  the 
bigot,  but  for  the  apprehension  of  a row  and  a violation 
of  the  courtesies  and  presence  of  even  a Mahommedan 
temple. 

The  hollow  square  of  the  Atmeidan  still  shows 
traces  of  the  ancient  Hippodrome.  Those  columns 
by  the  obelisk  beyond  mark  the  old  goal  of  the  chariot 
races  in  the  old  Roman  Circus.  Under  Justinian  it 
witnessed  the  scene  of  the  green  and  blue  factions,  and 
under  Mahommed  it  witnessed  that  horrid  massacre  of 
the  Janissaries,  who  here  fell  victims  to  a stern  neces- 
sity— a sacrifice  of  a terrible  hydra  which  was  threat- 
ening the  foundation  of  the  Sultan’s  throne. 

Beyond  this,  at  the  corner  of  a narrow  street  pass- 
ing towards  the  Mosque  of  Bajazet,  we  entered  the 
superb  Mausoleum  of  Mahommed,  who  was  buried 
near  the  mosque  he  had  erected.  These  beautiful 
tombs  are  in  the  most  perfect  and  rich  style  of  Moor- 
ish architecture,  and  within  are  the  sarcophagi  of  the 
Sultan  and  his  family.  The  courts  outside  are  usually 
filled  with  ever-blooming  flowers,  decking  the  margin 
of  a lovely  fountain,  and  each  Kiosk  becomes  almost  a 
minor  temple  to  a deified  monarch. 

Bajazet  has  no  peculiarity  but  its  vast  court,  which 
is  full  of  pigeons,  birds  highly  esteemed  by  true  Mus- 


230 


MOSaUE  OF  SOLEIMANYE. 


sulmen,  from  the  aid  which  was  afforded  by  one,  in  the 
Hegira  of  the  Prophet.  They  are  here  entertained  at 
the  public  expense,  where  they  have  a holy  horror  in 
causing  the  wanton  death  of  these  birds,  and  never  eat 
them  unless  their  heads  are  cut  off  and  they  are  bled 
by  suspension,  when  shot  by  the  hands  of  some  luckless 
Frank. 

Here,  we  were  surprised  to  find  a few  women  in 
the  interior,  as  they  are  excluded  from  a share  of  the 
worship,  and  so  slightly  treated  in  the  Koran,  as  to  lead 
to  some  doubt  in  Turkey,  whether  the  sex  are  possessed 
of  souls. 

It  was  the  hour  of  prayer,  also,  when  we  entered, 
and  the  assembly  of  the  faithful  added  a new  feature 
to  its  gloomy  and  lofty  interior.  The  attitude  of  the 
Osmanlee  at  prayer  is  one  of  great  and  exclusive  ab- 
straction : he  seems  at  that  hour  fully  bent  upon  his 
duty  and  the  offices  of  his  religion.  No  other  object 
attracts  him  from  that  purpose,  and  as  he  bends  in  his 
genuflections,  thrice  he  throws  his  body  to  the  ground, 
then  rising  at  full  height,  he  lifts  his  arm  in  prayer, 
and  is  wrapped  in  contemplation,  completely  absorbed 
and  abstracted  from  all  earthly  considerations,  and  lost 
in  his  vows  to  the  Allah ! il  Abdallah,  and  to  “ Great 
Mahomet,  his  Prophet/' 

Soleimanye,  the  last  mosque  we  visited,  is  the  most 
striking,  after  Saint  Sophia,  and  in  its  riches  and  en- 


POWER  OF  THE  FIRMAN. 


231 


dowments  is  surpassed  by  no  other  in  “ Stamboul.” 
Its  dome  is  almost  as  grand  as  that  of  Constantine,  and 
lacks  only  its  associations  to  render  it  equally  pleasing 
and  attractive. 

In  visiting  all  these  mosques,  we  could  not  but  re- 
mark the  small  number  of  worshippers  at  prayer.  It 
must  however  be  recollected,  that  their  devotions  are 
performed  five  times  each  day,  and  that  no  true  Ma- 
hommedan  omits  to  pray  at  those  stated  hours,  when 
the  Muezzim  tells  their  appointed  time  from  his  tower 
in  the  sky  ; and  wherever  the  true  and  faithful  are,  in 
shop  or  house,  tented  field  or  at  sea,  they  kneel  at  their 
devotions,  and  no  occupation  or  trade  prevents  obedi- 
ence to  the  call. 

Thus  ended  our  visit  to  the  Seraglio  and  Mosque 
by  Firman,  a power  which  carries  with  it  the  full  ex- 
ercise of  curiosity  and  observation,  and  without  which 
it  is  impossible  to  see  any  thing  of  the  interior  of 
either,  without  the  certainty  of  being  insulted  by  some 
fierce  and  solicitous  Turk,  or  laughed  at  and  shouted 
at  by  those  niggardly  raggouls , who  fling  the  dog  in 
your  teeth,  and  are  ready  to  sound  the  alarm  of  hounds, 
if  you  should  turn  to  punish  them  for  their  impudence, 
or  check  them  in  their  gibes  and  gestures,  which  claim 
protection  under  the  bigotry  of  their  sect,  and  their 
insuperable  hatred  of  the  Christian,  the  infidel,  and  the 
Giaour. 


232 


DOMESTIC  LIFE  OF  VITELLI. 


GOSSIP. 

Heartily  tired  of  that  monodrame  graveyard,  with 
its  mournful  aspect,  and  the  dull  phase  of  the  burnt 
district  of  that  “ Grand  Rue  de  Pera,”  we  changed  our 
quarters  and  took  rooms  atVitelli’s,  near  the  Mosque 
of  the  Dancing  Dervishes,  whence  we  could  now  com- 
mand views  of  the  distant  city  and  a glimpse  of  the 
Horn.  With  our  change  we  obtained  a clever  host  in 
Tonqo,  a Greekish  Italiano,  a fellow  of  wondrous  fer- 
tility, and  of  tongue  well  suited  to  his  racy  delivery  of 
these  tropical  imageries. 

PoorVitelli  had  separated  with  one  wife,  whom  he 
had  found  a little  too  much  of  a maitresse  femme,  and 
was  now  living  with  another,  who  was  by  choice  his 
femme  maitresse.  His  good  easy  nature  was  chafed 
in  the  yoke  of  regular  wedlock,  and  he  saw  fit  to  take 
French  leave  of  his  former  virago,  and  was  contented 
to  pass  the  rest  of  his  days  “ en  entente  cordiale,”  with 
a dark-eyed  Grecian.  You  must  know  that  we  do 
things  differently  in  Turkey,  and  love  in  the  East  is 
rather  more  plastic  than  shawls  and  piastres.  Guis- 
sepe  Tonqo  entertained  in  the  East,  to  the  full  satis- 
faction, our  party,  two  Englishmen,  and  the  Sultan’s 
Geologist ; and  in  such  company  we  felt  still  nearer  to 
the  Sublime  Porte,  and  more  open  to  the  general  in- 
fluences of  Turkdom  and  the  Ottoman  Empire. 


IRISH  ABSENTEE  IN  TRAVEL. 


233 


Our  English  friend,  H , was  one  of  those  staid 

and  statistical  Johnnies,  who  take  facts  by  measure- 
ment and  landscapes  by  points.  He  had  been  travel- 
ling at  leisure  on  three  hundred  pounds  a year  for  the 
last  seven  years,  and  whilst  in  Stamboul  was  engaged 
in  copying  out  bad  plans  from  an  old  book  of  the  last 
century,  and  buying  up  back  numbers  of  Galignani. 
By  such  little  devices  and  funny  anachronisms,  he 
managed  to  keep  up  a pleasant  fiction  of  travel,  and 
indulged  in  the  beauties  of  constructive  absenteeism. 

In  excursions  about  town  we  took  H as  our 

foot-rule,  and  pocketed  all  measurements  and  statistics 
from  his  memorandum,  whilst  we  threw  his  old  jokes 
and  Percy's  Anecdotes  to  the  Turks  and  the  dogs. 

Our  geologist,  from  his  long  residence  in  Turkey, 
and  appointment  at  the  Porte,  gave  us  reliable  infor- 
mation on  the  true  state  of  Turkey  and  character  of 

the  Ottoman,  whilst  our  companion,  L , who  had 

sailed  out  in  an  English  tub,  had  left  home  hardly  with 
permission  of  his  mamma,  and  was  only  known  to  us 
by  his  flirting  and  ogling  with  a pretty  Jewess,  who 
lived  opposite  our  window. 

The  Doctor's  room,  on  Tonqo's  third  floor,  an- 
swered for  our  divan,  and  we  assembled  there  every 
evening  to  learn  the  news  of  the  day,  and  to  gather 
fresh  hints  about  the  movements  of  Turkey. 

In  the  absence  of  incident,  we  always  sent  down 


234 


CHIT-CHAT  AND  GOSSIP. 


for  the  equivocal  Tonqo,  whose  fertile  imagination  and 
glib  Grecian  tongue  always  came  to  his  aid,  to  recall 
the  glorious  days  of  the  Janissaries,  the  intrigues  of 
the  Courts,  his  life  in  the  Plague,  and  his  own  great- 
ness under  the  empire  of  Mahommed,  the  dead  and 
favorite  Sultan.  When  this  source  failed,  we  called 
in  the  aid  of  the  Ottoman  newspaper,  edited  by  Mr. 

C , and  it  never  was  at  fault,  to  bring  up  all  arrears 

of  absurdity,  or,  in  the  melodramatic  constructions  of 
these  our  oriental  nights  at  Stamboul.  We  were  always 
lolling  on  the  divan,  where  Chibouques,  and  Duchan 
Hooker,  and  Timbactou  were  ever  ready  to  be  puffed, 
and  to  pour  out  rich  volumes  of  smoke,  thick  enough 
to  obscure  our  countenances,  and  prevent  too  close  an 
examination  as  to  the  texture  and  truthfulness  of  those 
stories,  which  were  certainly  woven  out  of  the  whole 
cloth. 

SORTIES. 

Under  the  escort  of  Georgio,  our  busy-faced  facto- 
tum, we  sallied  out  the  next  morning  to  visit  the 
“ Horse  Bazaars.”  Passing  through  the  long  line  of 
cypresses  which  stand  like  funereal  plumes  over  the 
sepulchres  of  the  Moslems,  we  stopped  awhile  to  ob- 
serve how  many  of  the  turbaned  tombstones  had  been 
singled  out  and  decapitated  ; whilst  they  recalled  to 


ROMAN  AQUEDUCT. 


235 


our  minds  the  fearful  vengeance  of  Sultan  Mahmoud, 
who  followed  the  onslaught  of  the  Atmeidan  by  a mu- 
tilation of  all  the  cemeteries  of  the  Janissaries.  Soon 
after,  as  we  were  about  to  enter  our  caiques  at  the 
“ Death  Quay,”  we  halted  again  to  witness  two  singu- 
larly severe  fights  on  the  wharf ; for  we  were  surprised 
to  view  such  fierce  demonstration  of  passion  in  the 
faces  of  these  Osmanlees,  which  had  hitherto  been  cha- 
racterized by  traits  of  the  most  benign  complacency, 
and  expression  of  imperturbable  repose. 

We  crossed  above  the  free  bridge  and  landed  at  the 
Mosque  of  the  Fanar,  in  the  Greek  quarter;  then  as- 
cending over  the  brow  of  the  hill,  lounged  awhile 
under  the  arches  of  the  ancient  Roman  Aqueduct, 
which  is  still  used  to  convey  water  into  the  city.  En- 
tering at  the  side  of  a broken  gate,  we  left  the  street 
and  groped  our  way  up  a blind  and  narrow  stoneway 
to  the  top,  and  whilst  we  walked  along  the  line  of  its 
broken  walls,  catching  pleasing  views  over  the  town, 
and  overlooking  the  gardens  and  interior  courts  of  the 
houses  beneath  us,  we  listened  to  the  gurgling  sound 
of  its  waters  flowing  under  our  feet,  which  issued  forth 
like  plaintive  voices  of  the  past  or  sighs  from  the  hol- 
low tombs  of  centuries,  mourning  the  fate  of  that  Em- 
pire which  had  risen  and  fallen  in  its  course,  and 
assimilating  the  history  of  its  transfer,  prosperity,  and 
decline,  to  the  strange  mutations  of  human  life. 


236 


TURK  AT  A BARGAIN. 


Thence  we  descended  and  walked  to  the  noble  Mosque 
of  Mohammed,  to  take  a new  view  of  the  “ Saddlers5 
Bazaars,55  and  that  quarter  where  the  horse-market  is 
held.  Whilst  there  we  sought  to  purchase  a gun-case 
from  one  of  these  Turkish  cobblers,  and  were  quite 
diverted  at  the  obstinate  refusal  of  the  animal  to  re- 
ceive any  orders  from  a Christian.  We  tried  to  com- 
municate our  wishes  by  signs,  and  drew  a plan  of  a 
cover,  hoping  to  assist  the  merchant  by  demonstration ; 
but  at  the  very  first  intimation  of  instructions  from  a 
Frank,  the  old  Turk  threw  down  the  plan,  and  sheathed 
his  caseknife ; then  looking  at  us  with  a solemn,  mys- 
terious, fanatical  stare,  signified  as  much  as  to  say, 
“you  may  get  it  elsewhere;  I am  sure  I could  not 
please  you  at  any  rate  ;55  whilst  he  mumbled  this  pas- 
sage from  the  Alcoran:  “Ye  faithful!  do  not  tie  sau- 
sages to  dogs5  tails.55  Not  far  from  this  quarter,  the 
debris  of  an  old  mosque  obstruct  the  roadside.  The 
Mahommedans  leave  these  wrecks  to  crumble  into 
decay,  and  have  scruples  in  hastening  the  destruction 
of  a temple  already  predestinated  by  the  order  of  na- 
ture. Although  they  have  desecrated  all  the  Grecian 
temples,  and  have  lined  the  Seraglio  sea  walls  with 
the  columns  of  Salamis,  they  never  destroy  their  own 
edifices  or  remove  them  out  of  sight,  but  suffer  their 
ruins  to  moulder  into  dissolution.  Then  after  walking 
about  this  new  quarter  of  the  city,  we  passed  within 


GORGEOUS  SUNSET. 


237 


to  the  terrace  before  the  Mosque  of  Soleimanye,  “ The 
Magnificent/’  and  whilst  I was  occupied  in  sketching 
its  exterior  for  my  companion’s  statistics,  we  were  sur- 
rounded by  groups  of  idlers  and  Osmanlees,  who  sus- 
piciously eyed  our  draft,  as  if  we  were  plotting  the 
destruction  of  the  temple.  Some  even,  more  gener- 
ous, and  gifted  with  a slight  taste  for  Art,  seemed 
strangely  pleased  with  the  drawing,  and  gave  us  a pat- 
ronizing shrug,  with  a “ Yok.!”  or  “ Mashallah !”  We 
felt  somewhat  honored  by  these  tokens  of  sympathy, 
for  they  relieved  us  from  any  apprehensions  we  might 
have  had,  of  being  pitched  over  the  precipice  for  our 
sacrilege.  From  that  spot  we  turned  to  enjoy  the  glo- 
rious effect  of  a rainbow  over  the  scene  spread  before 
us,  whilst  the  soft  tones  of  evening  stole  over  the  wa- 
ters of  the  Bosphorus  before  the  outlet  of  the  Golden 
Horn  ; and  as  the  setting  sun  glowed  upon  the  lone 
Tower  of  Galata,  burnishing  the  mosques  and  mina- 
rets with  gold,  the  whole  air  was  bathed  in  the  richest 
hues  of  purple  light ; and  transparent  clouds,  tinged 
with  roseate  dye,  hung  their  rich  drapery  over  that 
landscape  which  was  so  beautifully  framed  under  the 
span  of  the  suspended  arch. 

We  stood  long  gazing  at  the  beautiful  effects  of 
light  upon  the  distant  shore  of  Asia,  whilst  we  watched 
the  overshadowing  of  day,  under  the  gorgeous  colors 
of  this  magic  twilight,  and  lingered  still  until  the  last 


238 


Mussulman’s  sabbath. 


ray  of  sunlight,  glancing  from  gilded  mast  to  minaret, 
pencilled  with  its  faint  quivering  touch  the  crescent 
vane  of  the  Seraskier  Tower,  as  it  fled  from  earth  to 
regions  of  more  celestial  glory,  to  leave  the  sea  re- 
splendent with  the  mirrored  beauty  of  the  stars. 

Again  it  is  Friday,  and  the  day  opens  with  occa- 
sional showers  and  fitful  streaks  of  sunlight.  Again, 
the  Muezzims  sound  the  hour  of  prayer  from  their  thou- 
sand galleries  above  tower  and  dome,  and  the  faithful 
move  to  the  service  of  the  mosque,  as  he  cries,  “ Allah, 
il  Allah!  Abdillah!  To  prayer!  to  prayer!  prayer  is 
better  than  sleep ! Come  all  ye  faithful  to  prayer ! 
Allah  il  Allah ! Great  is  the  Prophet ! Allah  il  Allah ! 
Allah !”  The  cannons  from  Seraglio  Point  belch  out 
their  globes  of  smoke,  and  the  hills  resound  with  re- 
joicing echoes.  Yonder  across  the  Bosphorus  move 
the  graceful  barges  of  the  Sultan — now  they  float  by 
us,  in  our  caique,  to  the  mouth  of  the  Horn.  To-day 
he  goes  to  Achmet,  and  returns  to  visit  the  launches 
from  the  arsenal,  within  the  Admiralty  district. 

We  afterwards  mounted  to  the  terrace  of  the  Mos- 
veli  Dervishes,  to  watch  the  gay  procession  of  barge 
and  caique  as  it  passed  within  the  Horn ; and  thence 
again  to  the  bridge,  whilst  the  Court  moves  over  the 
inner  straits,  and  crowds  of  eager  and  devoted  follow- 
ers swell  the  pageant  in  its  onward  course.  One  never 
tires  when  viewing  the  varied  charms  of  this  poetic 


LAUNCH  OF  SHIPS BUYAKADERE. 


239 


land.  Ten  thousand  bloody  flags  stream  from  the 
crowded  mast-heads,  displaying  the  gilded  crescent  on 
their  ruddy  fields  ; and  as  the  Sultan  reviews  the  labors 
of  the  Pacha,  under  the  cover  of  his  sheltering  tent, 
two  noble  ships  of  the  line  are  launched  from  the  yard 
of  the  Capudan,  and  sink  from  their  ways  to  the  sea, 
floating  like  swans  on  that  glorious  lake.  Once  more 
the  welkin  rings  with  the  shout  of  soldiery,  beat  of 
drums,  and  booming  guns  ; then  all  is  over. 

Again  the  Sultan  moves  on  his  return  to  the  palace 
at  Beglerbeg,  and  the  bridge  is  cleared  by  the  crackling 
whip  of  the  Bostanjee,  who  keeps  it  free,  whilst  his 
barges  pass  beneath  to  float  once  more  in  the  deep  and 
broader  waters  of  the  Bosphorus.  We  followed  that 
afternoon  to  imbibe  fresh  joys  from  the  eternal  beau- 
ties of  these  noble  straits,  and  landed  not,  until  within 
the  arms  of  the  Bay  of  Buyakadere.  In  getting  out 
of  the  boat,  we  were  nearly  plunged  into  the  full  enjoy- 
ment of  its  waters,  and  would  have  felt  the  full  power 
of  its  charms,  but  for  the  strong  aiding  hands  of  our 
skilful  boatmen.  We  lost,  however,  the  perception  of 
the  beautiful  shores,  as  the  rain  forced  us  to  abandon 
our  ride  to  Belgrade,  and  that  night  was  passed  on 
land  at  the  “ Navy,”  a miserable  inn  kept  by  a clever 
Greek ; but  we  slept  soundly,  lulled  to  sleep  by  the 
sound  of  the  clamoring  waves  and  the  beating  of  a 
violent  rain,  pattering  on  the  roof  and  tapping  against 
our  windows. 


240 


BAIRAAM  FEAST. 


At  early  dawn  the  next  morning,  we  returned  and 
sailed  down  the  Bosphorus.  The  rosy  morn  gave  new 
beauties  to  these  charming  shores,  and  added  fresh 
laurels  to  their  merited  praises.  On  board  we  had 
parties  of  Armenian  merchants,  returning  to  their  bu- 
siness in  the  city,  and  groups  of  Greeks,  Albanian  wo- 
men, and  Turks.  A saintly  priest  was  seated  at  the 
end  of  the  boat,  dressed  in  full  canonicals  for  the  ser- 
vice of  the  mosque  ; and  it  amused  us  not  a little  to 
watch  his  popularity-seeking  manners,  and  his  open, 
Pharisaical  display  of  alms  to  a miserable  boy,  who 
wTaited  upon  him  and  kissed  the  fingers  of  his  extended 
hand.  So  we  floated,  by  the  Sultan’s  Palaces  and 
Kiosks,  Armenian  villages  and  Greek  mansions,  on  to 
the  charming  Point  of  Candili,  and  across  from  Scu- 
tari round  the  shore  of  Tophan6  to  the  bridge,  and 
a landing,  just  in  time  to  escape  the  coming  shower, 
and  reached  our  lodgings  for  an  early  breakfast  at 
Tonqo's. 

BAIRAAM. 

What  meaneth  this  gathering  of  sheep  within  the 
precincts  of  the  Court  of  Valide,  the  assembly  of  mer- 
chants, and  spread  booths  under  the  shadow  of  the  tem- 
ple ? The  morrow  is  the  Feast  of  the  Bairaam,  and 
the  Sultan  sacrifices  the  lamb  at  the  great  festival  of 


ILLUMINATION  OF  THE  HORN. 


241 


the  Mussulman  year,  which  follows  that  of  the  Rha- 
madan  and  the  ceremony  of  the  Circumcision.  At 
sunset  the  cannons  announce  the  approach  of  this 
annual  Coorban  Bairaam ; the  harbor  is  brilliantly 
illuminated,  and  those  pendent  lamps  hung  from  the 
Muezzim’s  gallery,  encircling  the  domes  of  the  mosque 
and  studding  the  masts  of  the  shipping  from  Eyoub  to 
the  Divan,  shine  like  clusters  of  brilliant  constellations 
along  the  starry  firmament  of  this  city  of  the  sun. 
We  ascended  the  tower  of  the  Genovese  to  catch  the 
full  effect  of  this  bright  effulgence,  and  with  the  aid  of 
our  Cawass,  succeeded  in  passing  the  guards  and  get- 
ting within  the  gates,  which  are  closed  upon  the 
Frank’s  quarter  after  nightfall. 

What  a brilliant  spectacle  bursts  upon  the  sight 
from  the  outer  gallery  of  this  sky  tower!  Ten  thou- 
sand stars  seemed  to  have  dropped  from  heaven  upon 
the  bosom  of  enchanted  earth ; and  as  these  lamps 
glimmered  through  the  hazy  dusk  upon  the  phosphoric 
billows  of  the  gilded  Horn,  they  twinkled  like  golden 
spangles  upon  the  mantle  of  the  Queen  of  Night.  It 
was  a scene  not  unlike  when  the  innumerable  hosts  of 
rebel  angels,  driven  from  out  the  pure  ethereal  realms 
of  heaven,  lay  stretched  for  many  an  acre  round  upon 
the  burning  surface  of  the  lurid  lake.  High  aloft,  the 
young  moon  peered  in  matchless  loveliness  through 
light  encircling  belts  of  fleecy  clouds,  and  east  her  soft 


242 


BAIRAAM  PROCESSION. 


veil  over  the  “ bridal  of  the  earth  and  sky,”  as  when 
the  Prophet  fled  from  his  persecuting  foes ; and  in 
gratitude  for  her  cheerful  beams,  stamped  her  image 
upon  the  shields  and  pennons  of  the  faithful,  and  by 
that  signal  crescent  led  on  to  the  conquest  of  the 
world,  and  the  establishment  of  a religion,  whose  pros- 
elytes were  to  be  converts  to  the  sword,  and  baptized 
in  an  ocean  of  blood. 

Those  tall,  tapering  towers  and  minarets,  gleaming 
with  golden  light,  stalk  forth  like  spectres  in  the 
watches  of  the  night,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  that 
scene  shared  more  of  the  fabled  visions  of  enchant- 
ment, than  of  the  assembled  glories  of  mere  earthly 
and  oriental  splendor. 

That  morning  came,  and  the  sun  arose,  suffusing 
the  shores  with  rosy  light.  At  early  day,  the  bridge 
was  crowded  with  masses  of  people,  moving  in  the 
direction  of  the  Porte,  and  over  to  the  Seraglio  of  the 
Sublime  Gate.  We  arrived  before  others,  and  yet 
found  a vast  multitude  assembled  in  the  squares,  bor- 
dering on  the  walls  of  “ Saint  Sophia.”  There  were 
Armenians,  dressed  in  full-flowing  robes,  petticoated 
Greeks,  tail-capped  Jewish  women,  Turks  and  soldiers, 
and  the  guards,  all  grouped  in  the  most  easy  attitudes 
and  postures.  It  was  a beautiful  sight  to  watch  the 
opening  of  this  gala  festival.  The  gilded  and  painted 
Arabas,  drawn  aside  from  their  buffaloes  and  Arabian 


PAGEANT. 


243 


steeds,  are  filled  with  gay  groups  of  females,  and  the 
brilliant  attire  of  the  full  costumed  Turks.  The  beau- 
tiful fountain  of  the  Seraglio,  with  its  pagoda  roofs  and 
rich  golden  inscriptions  on  azure  ground,  the  splendid 
portals  of  the  Gate,  the  turreted  walls  of  the  Castle, 
and  the  majestic  form  of  Saint  Sophia,  form  the  beau- 
tiful foreground  of  this  grand  spectacle,  while  the  Sea 
of  Marmora,  with  its  distant  shores  and  mountains, 
close  up  the  hollow  of  the  square.  Here  were  all 
waiting,  and  engaged  in  various  observations  and  sur- 
mises, until  the  hour  of  march  was  announced  by  the 
appointed  heralds.  The  procession  moved  through 
the  long  line  of  soldiers  ranged  along  the  course.  Ten 
spirited  Arabians,  led  by  gayly-clad  grooms,  preceded ; 
they  are  the  steeds  of  Mahomet,  pedigree  of  the  Pro- 
phet’s race,  beautifully  caparisoned  and  without  riders, 
and  their  rich  saddles  of  red  morocco  are  embroidered 
in  golden  letters.  Then  came  Pachas,  Muftis,  Effendis, 
and  high  dignitaries  of  the  Empire,  each  attended  by 
their  suites  and  slaves,  and  mounted  on  fiery  coursers, 
with  highly  decked  saddle-cloths  ; following  in  order 
of  their  tails  or  standards,  whilst  they  are  severally  dis- 
tinguished by  their  decorations  and  number  of  re- 
tainers. Lastly  came  the  oldest  and  most  important 
minister,  the  Grand  Vizier,  moving  in  front  of  the 
body-guards,  who  were  richly  clad  in  scarlet  jackets, 
and  in  their  red  fezes  wore  aloft  high,  tall  plumes  of  the 
11 


244 


THE  SULTAN HIS  ARRAY. 


peacock-feather,  whilst  they  carried  their  maces  in 
their  right  hand.  Then  succeeded  the  imperial  fan- 
bearers,  to  keep  off  all  noxious  insects,  and  to  prevent 
the  flies  from  annoying  the  serene  countenance  of  the 
Prince  ; these  passed  in  files  of  six,  and  in  the  middle, 
clad  with  his  cloak  of  royal  purple,  and  almost  hidden 
under  a gaudy  canopy  of  plumes  and  fans,  the  Sultan 
rode,  mounted  on  a sorrel  horse,  which  was  led  by  the 
grooms.  From  his  tarboush  rose  a single  plume  of  a 
peacock’s  feather,  fastened  by  a superb  diamond,  the 
first  in  Europe,  which  glistened  like  a star  in  the  fore- 
head of  Zullillah.  He  deigns  not  to  look  either  to  the 
right  or  left.  Solemn  and  melancholy,  like  a blaz6 
Frenchman,  dejected  and  slowly  he  moves ; and  whilst 
the  air  is  rent  by  the  huzzas  of  the  enthusiastic  sol- 
diers, at  the  presence  of  the  King,  the  inclination  of  his 
turban  on  the  salvers  on  either  side  is  the  only  recogni- 
tion of  the  acclamations  of  the  people.  The  procession 
is  closed  by  the  household  troops  and  minions  of  the 
Palace.  The  crowd  hurries  on  behind  towards  the 
Mosque  of  Achmet.  The  whole  pageant  constitutes 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  scenes  of  oriental  pomp  and 
splendor,  and  is  the  most  gorgeous  display  in  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  Sublime  Porte. 

The  soldiers  now  close  up  the  ranks, — bands  of 
music  discourse  wild  airs  to  his  imperial  taste,  and  the 
cannons  boom  as  they  enter  the  hollow  square  of  the 
Atmeidan  in  front  of  the  Court  of  Achmet. 


ARABAS ODALISQUES. 


245 


Whilst  there,  the  Sultan  sacrifices  a lamb,  and  dis- 
tributes myriads  of  sheep  among  the  poor.  This  mere 
religious  festival  is  over,  and  the  rest  of  the  day  is 
spent  in  gala  and  rejoicing.  The  royal  party  retire  in 
the  same  order  to  the  Sublime  Porte.  On  our  return 
we  were  fortunate  in  meeting  the  procession  of  royal 
carriages,  bearing  the  Sultanas  and  the  concubines 
homeward.  These  vehicles,  called  in  the  East  “ Ara- 
bas,”  are  worked  by  buffaloes,  and  their  gay  capari- 
sons, with  tinsel  head-gear  and  saddle-trees,  hung 
round  with  long  red  tassels  and  cords,  are  in  excellent 
keeping  with  the  fantastic  shape  and  colors  of  the 
painted  body  of  these  wagons.  Their  fair  occupants 
sit  within  on  rich  mattresses,  which  relieve  the  rickety 
motion  of  these  swinging  calabashes.  As  I looked 
in,  I was  struck  with  the  singular  beauty  of  some  of 
these  dark-eyed  Odalisques,  who  seemed  no  less  con- 
scious of  their  charms  than  ready  to  display  their  fair 
proportions,  and  even  not  over-exact  in  the  folds  of 
their  yashmacs.  Fully  aware  of  their  security  under 
the  guard  of  eunuchs,  and  of  the  effect  of  their  stolen 
interviews,  they  delight  to  play  at  coquetry  with  the 
eyes  of  passing  Franks,  and  are  even  willing  to  drop 
their  veils,  so  as  to  expose  their  fair  complexions,  and 
the  pearly  richness  of  a voluptuous  bosom.  These  im- 
prisoned beauties  are  safe  within  the  inclosure  of  their 
latticed  cars,  and  through  their  bars  they  shoot  out 


246 


WOMEN  OF  THE  HAREM. 


glances  from  their  large  eyelashes,  which  rankle  deep 
in  the  wounded  heart  of  the  enduring,  suffering,  help- 
less, and  admiring  Christian.  The  higher  the  rank, 
and  richer  the  person,  the  lighter  are  the  folds  of  their 
ferigees  and  curtains ; and  more  ready  they  to  display 
charms  which  ravish  from  being  viewed,  as  fully  as 
they  are  aware  of  the  power  of  such  sensations.  We 
followed  these  freights  of  human  beauties  even  to  the 
water’s  edge,  and  saw  them  safely  seated  in  their 
barges,  as  they  were  borne  away  to  be  immured  amid 
the  seclusions  of  the  Harem,  at  the  Palace  of  Dolma- 
bagdashe  on  the  Bosphorus  ; whilst  we  wafted  adieu, 
from  the  corners  of  our  pocket  handkerchiefs.  The 
remaining  barges  of  the  Court  moved  out  into  the 
stream,  and  the  magnificent  flotilla  of  the  Sultan 
crossed  our  path,  as  we  afterwards  pushed  out  into  the 
middle  of  the  Horn,  and  watched  those  beautiful  cas- 
tles of  water,  until  they  disappeared  around  the  walls 
of  Tophane. 

SAINT  STEPHANO. 

i 

After  this,  we  passed  to  the  shore  of  Galata,  and 
taking  a caique  from  the  Wine-Wharf,  engaged  boat- 
men to  take  us  to  Saint  Stephano.  As  we  were  glid- 
ing past  the  quay,  our  attention  was  occupied  by 
groups  of  pretty  children,  variously  engaged  in  their 


AN  EVENING  AT  OUR  MINISTER^. 


247 


sports  on  shore.  These  miniature  Mussulmen  attract, 
from  their  beautiful  faces  and  ludicrously  pretty  cos- 
tumes, which  are  more  rigidly  observed  by  them  than 
among  the  older  Turks.  Their  chief  sport  was  a 
splendid  spindle  swing,  in  which  they  sat  in  boxes,  and 
were  alternately  raised  up  in  the  air  and  let  down 
again  to  the  ground.  As  soon  as  we  had  floated  past 
the  limits  of  the  Horn,  we  rounded  Seraglio  Point, 
and  were  borne  by  the  rapid  current  into  the  Sea  of 
Marmora,  along  the  old  walls  of  the  city.  We  kept 
always  in  sight  of  the  city,  and  until  beyond  the  Seven 
Towers  caught  new  views  of  its  magnificent  outlines. 
We  met  our  Minister  at  the  foot  of  his  landing-place, 
ready  to  receive  us.  As  we  shook  his  extended  hand, 
we  felt  sure  of  his  hospitalities  within.  The  door  of 
his  villa  opens  out  on  the  sea,  and  gives  a glorious 
prospect  over  Marmora  and  a thousand  sails,  stretch- 
ing upward  to  the  city  over  its  waters,  which  are  only 
broken  by  the  various  groups  of  the  Princes’  Islands. 
We  sat  long  over  our  sherry,  discussing  Turkey  and 
Turkdom,  and  it  was  late  when  the  moon  peeped 
through  the  latticed  window,  and  stole  upon  our  party, 
cosily  seated  on  a divan  and  smoking  our  pipes  in  va- 
pory clouds,  which  flitted  between  her  and  its  bright 
reflections  on  the  blue  Propontis ; and  it  was  midnight, 
of  charming  beauty  and  in  soft  repose,  when  we  sunk 
into  deep  sleep,  in  harmony  with  hushed  nature  around, 


248 


CONVERSATION  ON  TURKEY, 


and  were  charmed  into  forgetfulness  and  dreams  by 
the  murmuring  waves  of  the  sea,  flowing  under  the 
piers  of  our  chamber. 

The  next  morning,  whilst  at  breakfast,  Messrs. 
Dwight  and  Holmes,  attached  to  the  mission  at  Pera, 
came  in,  and  soon  after,  Mr.  Davis,  an  American,  who 
had  been  invited  by  the  Sultan  to  introduce  the  culture 
of  cotton  into  Turkey.  Our  conversation  turned  on 
general  subjects,  and  ran  in  the  following  vein  : 

Traveller.— Poor  Davis  is  going  to  the  city,  to- 
day, to  have  his  eye  doctored.  So  we  will  examine 
him  passing.  How  grows  cotton  in  Turkey,  Davis? 

Mr.  D. — Under  the  patronage  of  the  Sultan,  well. 
He  has  given  me  a gang  of  idle  fellows,  who  are  al- 
ways wanting  to  take  a pull  at  their  chibouques  ; and 
if  the  soil  was  not  naturally  adapted  for  the  staple,  it 
would  be  more  likely  to  sprout  with  Timbuctoo  and 
old  pipes. 

Traveller. — I suppose  his  Majesty,  brother  of  the 
City  of  the  Sun,  has  some  slight  degree  of  interest  in 
the  welfare  of  his  kingdom,  and  that  by  this  time  he 
must  have  caught  some  few  ideas  from  the  Russian 
and  French  legations. 

“ Yes,”  says  Carr;  “this  Head  of  the  Turks  thinks 
of  establishing  a factory,  and  has  already  put  up  the 
iron  foundry,  and  had  the  doctor  to  cure  his  chimney  ; 
but  I suppose  when  the  main  pipe  is  put  up,  it  will 


THE  SULTAN,  AND  HIS  COURT. 


249 


run  strong  competition  with  all  the  chibouques  and 
narguill^es  of  Stamboul,and  be  put  down  for  monopoly 
of  smoke.” 

“ Doubtless  our  friend  the  Doctor  will  then  find 
these  fancies  for  improvement,  in  Turkey,  to  be  fitful ; 
and  when  the  old  fox  has  gotten  crotchets  enough 
from  the  strangers,  he  will  grow  tired  of  innovations, 
as  his  soldiers  are  of  Frank  pantaloons  ; or  he  may  be 
rather  inclined  to  throw  his  wards  overboard,  as  he 
does  some  of  his  extra  wives,  in  the  Bosphorus.” 

“ But  you  must  allow  he  is  a man  of  some  energy,” 
says  our  Missionary ; “ partial  to  Europeans,  whom  his 
subjects  call  ‘ Dogs for  he  has  already  introduced  a 
line  of  steamers,  speaks  French,  plays  the  piano,  and 
furnishes  his  palace  a la  Paris ; so  that  there  is  some 
hope  for  the  Ottoman  Empire.” 

“ I allow  it,  Brother  H ; but  he  is  sadly  given 

to  his  harem ; and  I fear,  if  he  does  not  follow  his  res- 
pectable mother’s  advice,  our  main  stay  in  the  Sultan 
will  be  taken  away ; then  we  must  ever  content  our- 
selves to  confine  our  labors  to  the  conversion  of  a few 
Armenians,  or  to  straightening  out  the  consciences  of  a 
few  hungry  and  renegade  Greeks.” 

“Not  at  all,”  rejoined  our  Minister; — “Zulillah, 
this  shadow  of  God,  spreadeth  the  august  folds  of  his 
authority,  in  preference,  over  the  Republic  of  the  Pot- 
tawattamies.  At  the  last  reception,  and  the  exchange 


250 


HYPERBOLE  OF  THE  EAST. 


of  salaams  before  the  Divan  of  the  Magnificent  Gate, 
this  Avenger  of  the  Faithful  was  benign  enough  to 
receive  four  of  that  great  nation,  all  of  whom  were 
over  six  feet  three  inches.  That  visible  representation 
of  our  people  so  astonished  his  Majesty,  as  to  fix  an  in- 
delible impression  on  his  mind  of  the  dignity,  greatness, 
or  tallness  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  domain  of  his  bro- 
ther Phaedradrom  of  the  Sun  of  the  Occidental  Zone, 
while  it  caused  him  to  exclaim,  with  a ‘Yok!  yok  ! 
Allah  il  Allah,  Abdillah ! and  Mahomet  is  his  greatest 
Prophet,  after  our  brother  Jehuphad  of  the  Pottawat- 
tamies.  Inshallah  ! Mashallah  Y ” 

We  arose  at  this  point  of  remark,  and  bid  adieu  to 
our  host  and  his  friends,  and  as  we  left  the  shore,  gave 
word  to  our  bargemen  to  hurry  us  back  to  Stamboul. 

GENERAL  OBSERVATIONS. 

Hitherto  we  have  given  only  general  remarks,  or 
the  impressions  of  an  enchanted  gazer.  We  will  now 
enter  more  fully  into  detail,  and  write  more  of  what  is 
seen  and  heard. 

Probably  no  country  in  Europe  is  so  little  known 
as  Turkey,  or  a people  so  little  understood  as  the 
Turks.  They  rejoice  in  their  total  distinction  from 
the  rest  of  mankind.  They  know  nothing  of  the  ac- 
tion of  those  whom  they  deem  barbarians,  and  care 


EL  ALCORAN  AND  FAITH. 


251 


less.  They  idolize  the  Sultan,  as  the  successor  of  the 
Prophet,  and  respect  the  Czar  of  Russia,  who  had  once 
thrashed  them  heartily  in  battle 

KORAN. 

The  Koran  regulates  all  the  duties  of  Turkish  life. 
It  is  their  civil,  religious,  social,  and  intellectual  guide. 
From  the  chapter  of  the  “Man,”  to  that  of  the  “Cow,” 
every  office  is  prescribed  and  every  obligation  to  bind 
the  faithful.  Every  action  conforms  to  its  rule,  and 
no  true  Turk  holds  of  any  account  any  dicta  not  found 
within  its  pages.  This,  and  the  sayings  of  the  imme- 
diate friends  of  the  Prophet,  make  up  the  volume  of 
the  written  and  unwritten  law;  and  the  inspired 
thoughts  which  were  inscribed  on  mutton  blades  and 
chips,  have  been  gathered  by  his  followers  within  the 
folios  of  this  code. 

So  great  is  the  veneration  of  the  Mussulman  for 
its  contents,  that  not  even  a slip  of  paper  is  ever 
thrown  away  or  destroyed,  for  fear  that  on  it  may  be 
written  some  precept  of  the  Prophet  or  the  holy  name 
of  Allah. 

Their  religion,  therefore,  enters  into  every  relation, 
and  regulates  every  action  of  their  life.  Their  attach- 
ment to  their  faith,  and  regularity  of  their  devotions, 
is  admirable,  and  whether  in  shop  or  house,  in  field  or 
11* 


252 


RELIGION  AND  LAW. 


tent,  the  hour  of  worship  finds  fit  temple  for  his  silent 
prayer.  However  you  may  be  disposed  to  differ  from 
these  loyal  followers  of  the  false  Prophet,  you  cannot 
but  admire  their  consistency,  or  doubt  their  sincerity  of 
faith,  for  the  instances  are  rare  of  the  conversion  of  a 
Turk  to  Christianity. 

You  ask  a Turk,  why  he  fulfils  the  exact  perform- 
ance of  his  ablutions,  his  punctilious  cleanliness,  his  ten- 
der treatment  of  animals,  his  entertainment  of  strangers, 
and  his  scrupulous  regard  for  truth,  and  he  refers  you 
to  the  injunctions  of  the  Koran. 

Their  attachment  to  their  law  and  religion,  which 
are  one,  is  sustained  by  the  early  education  of  their 
children,  and  every  breach  in  the  observance  of  its 
commands,  has  not  only  the  dreadful  apprehension  of 
the  fearful  anger  of  the  Prophet,  but  the  more  certain 
punishment  of  the  fault  by  his  vicegerent  on  earth,  the 
Sultan. 

With  all  their  devotion  and  virtue  of  cleanliness, 
their  urbanity  of  manners  and  propriety,  they  do  not 
sustain  a reputation  of  intellectual  vigor.  They  still 
adhere  to  a belief  in  the  Ptolemaic  system  of  the 
planets’  and  sun’s  movements  round  the  earth. 

They  sustain  their  interest  in  the  heavens  by  a 
careful  observance  of  all  natural  phenomena,  and  no 
day  of  festival  is  set  apart,  or  any  action  of  impor- 
tance undertaken,  until  their  astrologers  have  first 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS. 


253 


taken  the  signs  of  the  stars,  and  the  times  and  seasons 
have  been  found  to  be  in  conjunction  for  the  happy 
auspices  of  the  event. 

Whilst  among  them,  they  had  often  deferred  the 
celebration  of  the  Bairaam,  because  the  omens  were 
not  propitious.  With  all  their  resignation  to  the  will 
of  fate,  and  their  comfortable  assurance  as  to  the  result 
of  their  destiny,  they  believe  it  is  to  their  advantage  to 
take  a fair  start  with  futurity,  and  get  all  the  chances 
in  favor  before  leaping  to  the  result.  If  the  fire  burns 
to  consume  their  houses  in  its  devouring  element,  they 
are  eager  to  arrest  the  flame ; but  if  it  masters  all  the 
energies  of  man,  they  are  resigned  to  its  fury,  and 
console  themselves  with  “ God  is  great and  if  sick- 
ness or  pestilence  visit,  to  terminate  in  the  stroke  of 
death,  they  are  still  calm  under  its  influence  and  re- 
signed to  the  decree.  They  heave  a deep  sigh  as  they 
add,  for  composure,  “ God  is  great  and — merciful  ” 

MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS. 

In  their  manners  and  customs  they  appear  the  very 
antipodes  of  the  civilized  North,  and  all  their  habits  are 
antithetical  to  Europeans. 

They  sit  on  the  ground  cross-legged ; we  sit  up- 
right in  a chair.  They  eat  with  their  fingers  ; we 
with  our  forks.  Their  women  wear  trousers ; their 


254 


DWELLINGS  AND  INTERIORS. 


men  wear  petticoats.  We  take  off  our  hats  on  enter- 
ing a room  ; they  take  off  their  shoes.  Our  gentlemen 
visit  the  ladies ; their  women  the  men.  Our  fair  ones 
ride  sideways ; their  beauties  ride  straddle.  They 
glory  in  plurality ; we  think  one  wife  is  enough. 
Their  fair  ones  paint  their  eyelids  and  fingers ; ours 
only  their  cheeks.  They  shave  only  their  heads,  and 
consider  their  beards  a mark  of  honor  and  distinction ; 
we  shave  our  own  faces  and  other  people's  notes. 
We  think  them  barbarians  and  fanatics,  and  wonder  at 
their  taste  ; they  retaliate  by  calling  us  dogs,  and  are 
equally  astonished  at  our  want  of  good-breeding.  We 
throw  our  maidens  into  the  market ; they,  their  daugh- 
ters into  the  Bosphorus. 

In  fact,  both  parties  are  in  a disagreeable  humor  to 
enjoy  each  other’s  properties  and  peculiarities,  and  are 
mutually  ill  prepared  to  exchange  the  courtesies  of 
their  respective  conditions  ; so  that  there  are  scarcely 
two  points  in  which  they  both  agree  ; and  it  may  be 
said  with  truth,  that  what  the  Anglo-Saxon  is,  the  Turk 
is  not. 

HOUSES. 

The  interior  of  their  houses  is  admirable,  and  their 
rooms  are  so  planned  as  to  admit  as  much  light  as  pos- 
sible at  all  sides.  The  form  of  the  room  is  always  a 


TURKISH  ETiaUETTE COMPANY. 


255 


square,  and  the  passages  leading  to  it  from  the  open 
side  at  the  door,  prolong  its  form  and  convert  it  into  an 
oblong.  It  is  these  projections  to  receive  light,  and  the 
sinking  of  these  passages  and  recesses  of  their  corridors, 
which  vary  the  form  of  their  houses,  and  give  to  these 
dwellings  their  singularly  picturesque  aspect.  The  room 
is  so  managed  as  to  leave  the  windows  uninterrupted 
by  partitions  or  walls.  Rich  cushions  are  spread  on 
the  floor  to  the  height  of  the  windows,  and  give  one  a 
fine  view  outward  into  the  gardens.  Thus  they  live 
always  in  the  sight  of  external  nature. 

The  right  corner  of  the  divan  is  the  seat  of  honor, 
and  when  the  guests  appear,  they  take  their  rank  from 
their  position  as  to  the  host.  On  the  ground  floor, 
overlooking  the  garden,  is  the  court  of  the  fountains. 
It  is  this  excellent  disposition  of  light,  which  displays 
so  artistically  their  interior  life,  and  gives  such  rich 
effect  to  their  costumes  and  groups. 

As  the  guest  enters,  it  is  his  duty  to  salute.  The 
salaams  are  repeated  and  returned.  He  is  then  pre- 
ceded by  the  host,  and  takes  his  seat  next  to  him  on 
the  divan ; the  compliments  of  the  day  are  exchanged, 
and  conversation  flows  on  moderately  and  with  the 
same  easy  courtesy,  without  extraneous  ceremony. 

Supple  and  active  attendants  then  wait  upon  the 
party  with  pipes,  and  holding  their  long  stems  grace- 
fully balanced  between  thumb  and  finger,  set  the  bowl 


256 


DIVAN  AND  COFFEE  DRINKING. 


within  proper  distance  of  the  guest,  and  then  with  a 
gentle  swing  turn  the  amber  mouthpiece  to  the  lips  of 
the  receiver,  and  withdraw — always  facing  the  com- 
pany— to  their  stand  behind  the  lattice  screen  of  the 
stairway. 

After  this,  coffee  is  brought  in  and  served  up  by 
the  servants  in  chaste  fingans,  resting  in  the  hold  of 
their  silver  zarfs.  These  are  often  of  gold,  wrought 
in  rich  filagree,  and  ornamented  with  jewels.  As  the 
coffee  is  presented,  the  guest  receives  it,  by  taking  the 
cup  out  of  the  holder,  as  it  is  lowered  to  the  level  of 
his  mouth  ; and  when  emptied,  the  attendant  returns 
to  relieve  the  sitter,  and,  careful  always  to  avoid  con- 
tact with  the  guest,  placing  one  hand  under  the  zarf, 
and  the  palm  of  the  other  over  the  cup,  receives  it  on 
the  salver  as  it  leaves  the  lips  of  the  drinker.  All  this 
service  is  performed  without  noise  or  confusion  ; and 
so  dextrous  is  their  skill,  that  it  never  happens  that 
the  long  snaky  folds  of  the  narguillee,  or  the  slender 
stems  of  the  chibouque  are  disturbed,  in  the  rapid 
movements  and  tread  of  the  nimble  and  well-trained 
domestics.  After  which  the  visit  concludes  with  the 
temaneh,  or  ceremony  of  taking  leave  : — the  guest 
always  asking  leave  to  go.  He  is  then  accompanied 
to  the  proper  point  by  his  host,  whom  he  salutes  again 
easily,  without  superfluous  compliment,  awkward  bait- 
ings, or  last  words  ; then  the  host  resumes  his  place 


BATHS  AND  ABLUTIONS. 


257 


on  the  divan,  and  the  company  remain  in  the  same 
easy  and  charming  attitudes,  without  having  noticed 
the  departures  or  the  salaams. 


BATHS. 

Next  in  interest,  from  their  interior  arrangement 
and  construction,  are  the  Baths.  The  room  set  apart 
for  this  purpose  is  somewhat  retired  from  the  divan, 
but  always  convenient  to  the  chambers  and  closets. 
They  are  usually  lined  with  marble,  and  contain  all  the 
appurtenances  of  hot  and  cold  water.  The  light  falls 
beautifully  through  a calendered  roof,  softened  by 
lenses  of  ground  glass,  set  into  richly  cut  marble 
sockets.  What  could  be  more  ravishing  than  its  effect 
on  these  beautiful  creatures  of  the  Harem,  standing 
within  these  lovely  alcoves,  and  visited  while  bathing 
by  such  waves  of  pearly  light  ? 

I leave  it  to  your  fancy  to  describe  the  poetical  as- 
pect of  these  bathing  Georgians,  and  to  picture  forth 
the  charms  of  an  oriental  bath,  and  turn  to  those  more 
common  halls,  the  receptacle  of  public  bathers,  the 
common  baths  of  Stamboul  and  Scutari.  On  any  day 
not  set  apart  for  the  women,  you  can  enjoy  one  of 
these  Turkish  washtubs.  As  you  enter,  you  are  met 
by  the  swashers  and  clothiers,  who  receive  you  while 
you  are  undressed,  and  stand  ready  to  furnish  towels 


258 


PROCESS  OF  BATHING. 


and  soap.  After  this  you  pass  into  the  interior,  where 
there  are  a series  of  smaller  apartments,  lighted  from 
above,  through  the  loopholes  of  thickly  perforated  cu- 
polas, and  commence  operations  by  being  laid  out  in 
state  on  a hot  slab  of  marble.  You  remain  there  until 
perspiration  flows  freely,  and  then  are  taken  in  hand. 
Fresh  manipulations  commence  by  a profuse  lathering, 
until  you  are  covered  with  white  foam,  or  concealed 
under  a cloud  of  soap-suds.  Now  follows  the  process 
of  shampooing,  or  rubbing  down,  as  the  attendant 
passes  his  hand  in  a very  rapid  and  soothing  mode 
over  the  limbs,  much  after  the  sponge- wash  of  a horse- 
jockey  ; and  while  you  are  under  the  lubric  friction  of 
this  operation,  thin  flakes  of  flesh  peel  off,  which  cause 
you  to  shrink  at  this  evidence  of  your  own  uncleanli- 
ness, whilst  you  are  afraid  of  being  skinned  alive. 
After  you  have  been  thoroughly  shampooed  and  cur- 
ried down,  and  have  undergone  the  additional  torture 
of  ankles  pulled  out  of  joint,  knees  cracked,  and  bones 
twisted,  much  after  the  manner  of  wrung  stockings  or 
rags  ; then  succeeds  the  douche  bath,  when  hot  water 
is  poured  over  your  exhausted  frame,  already  wrought 
into  such  a state  of  fervor  and  glow  of  delight,  that 
you  scarcely  feel  the  heat  of  the  liquid  fire,  which  pu- 
rifies your  existence  by  removing  all  particles  of  filth 
and  dust.  After  this  final  act  of  purification,  you  are 
led  over  the  hot  marble  pavement  on  griggles  ; and  as 


POETRY  AND  FACT  OF  THE  BATH. 


259 


you  stagger  out  fainting  and  nerveless,  quite  overcome 
with  stupor  and  vapor,  you  feel  much  like  a quivering 
form  of  gelatine  prior  to  collapse ; when  you  sink  ex- 
hausted into  the  folds  of  a mattress  in  the  anteroom, 
and  swoon  almost  into  forgetfulness  of  life  or  reality. 
There,  within  the  envelope  of  your  winding-sheet,  you 
rest  until  your  excitement  is  overcome  by  sleep,  and 
your  vigor  is  restored  by  repose.  You  awake  to  re- 
ceive the  proffered  cup  of  mocha  from  the  caffeegee, 
and  while  away  an  hour  amid  the  clouds  of  fragrant 
gebailler,  blown  from  the  burning  censer  of  your  chi- 
bouque. Thus  amid  delightful  visions,  animation,  with 
the  impulsive  throbs  of  life,  revives  through  your  puri- 
fied body.  You  then  dress,  go  into  the  outer  room, 
and  escape,  satisfied  with  one  trial  of  the  Turkish 
bath. 

We  went  into  one  near  the  market  of  the  Fanar, 
and  I assure  you  we  walked  but  once  round,  and  then 
fled  from  the  effluvia  of  filth  and  stench  which  arose, 
at  times  taking  strong  hold  of  our  noses,  and  inhaling 
large  vials  of  jessamine  and  otto  of  roses,  to  prevent 
contagion  and  avoid  disease.  We  had  enough  of  the 
Turkish  bath,  and  could  only  enjoy  one  in  private, 
and  that,  perhaps,  in  the  secret  chambers  of  the  Se- 
raglio. 


260 


HIGHWAY  SCENES. 


LIFE  IN  THE  STREETS. 

The  sight  revels  in  those  confused  pictures  of  life 
and  men,  which  crowd  upon  your  vision  as  you  wander 
in  your  daily  walks  through  the  lanes  and  byways  of 
this  glorious  city ; and  the  imagination  is  strained  to 
find  fit  description  of  those  motley  contrasts  which 
mingle  the  eternal  beauties  of  nature,  with  the  ever- 
varying  and  gorgeous  spectacles  of  her  streets.  From 
early  dawn,  when  you  are  awakened  by  the  hoarse  cry 
of  the  vender  of  chiamac,  who  passes  your  door  with 
his  towering  load,  to  the  last  cry  of  the  Muezzim  at 
evening;  and  until  night  approaches,  when  you  are 
again  disturbed  by  the  rattling  wand  of  the  passing 
watch,  or  the  startling  call  of  “ yangen  van  !”  fire ! fire ! 
you  are  ever  on  the  alert,  and  susceptible  to  the  thou- 
sand objects  and  incidents  which  surround  you. 

As  you  walk  through  the  long  array  of  columnai 
tombs  decking  the  hillside  of  Pera,  you  see  here  and 
there,  scattered  groups  of  beautiful  children,  playing  in 
full  health  amid  the  broken  stones  of  the  decimated  Ja- 
nissaries ; and  beyond,  through  the  avenues  of  terebinth 
and  cypress,  you  follow  that  hurrying  gang  of  Turks, 
bearing  aloft  the  frail  relics  of  mortality,  as  they  almost 
run  to  the  grave,  and  press  to  fulfil  a duty  enjoined  by 
the  Koran,  which  protects  them  from  any  taint  by  pol- 
lution. 


CAFFEEGEES  AND  DEEWANS. 


261 


Over  the  hill  you  look  out  on  the  gay  procession  of 
young  children,  who  are  escorting  a companion  to 
school,  amid  sound  of  chant  and  notes  of  wild  music ; 
and  as  you  watch  the  glowing  eyes  of  the  young  neo- 
phyte, you  cannot  but  admire  these  pleasing  introduc- 
tions to  their  education,  and  these  charming  artifices 
which  soften  the  avenue  to  learning,  and  cheer  the 
scholar,  while  they  bind  the  affections  of  the  children 
to  their  teachers. 

Far  off,  by  the  angle  of  a corner,  there  are  groups 
of  singing  women,  shrieking  more  like  funeral  dirges, 
than  what  was  thought  to  be  entertainment;  and  as 
you  hurry  on,  passing  the  doors  of  the  caffeegee  and 
wine  shop,  you  look  in  upon  groups  of  revellers  and 
idlers,  listening  to  the  tales  of  a storyteller  or  dervish, 
or  joining  in  the  dance  of  young  boys,  whilst  others 
are  strewn  about,  vaguely  smoking  away  existence 
from  the  mouthpieces  of  their  chibouques  and  the  snaky 
lengths  of  the  narguillee. 

Here  by  the  bridge  you  are  startled  by  the  sharp 
snap  of  the  Suredjee’s  lash,  who  runs  before  to  an- 
nounce the  approach  of  his  noble  lordship,  and  you 
are  amused  on  every  turn  to  see  the  deference  paid  to 
a child,  the  infant  son  of  some  Lord  of  the  House- 
hold. 

And  in  the  gay  confusion  occasioned  by  the  mo- 
mentary stoppage  of  the  crowd,  you  are  struck  with 


262 


MOTLEY  CROWDS. 


the  rich  costumes  which  are  huddled  together  in  such 
picturesque  confusion ; while  fustanelled  Greek,  broad- 
tailed Armenians,  the  ragged  Jew,  pilgrim  and  camels, 
Arabs  and  Circassians,  are  held  aback,  showing  the 
richest  contrast  of  color  and  races  ; and,  opposed  to  the 
glorious  views  of  the  Horn,  the  white  walls  of  the  city, 
and  the  shipping,  which  almost  bury  their  prows  into 
the  windows  of  the  town. 

Hurrying  along,  came  a band  of  Hamals,  porters  of 
enormous  strength,  dragging  a tun  up  the  streets  of 
Galata,  whilst  lean,  lank,  mangy  dogs  growl  as  they 
dispute  the  way. 

Across  in  the  city,  the  crowd  grows  denser  within 
the  narrow  limits  of  the  bazaars,  where  the  little  space 
allowed  is  filled  with  venders  of  sweetmeats  and  pulp 
and  water,  mingled  with  lumbering  vehicles  and  the 
spirited  coursers  of  the  Prophet's  racers,  whilst  Pachas 
pass  with  their  bands  of  followers  swelling  in  dignity 
with  their  tails;  and  all  are  hurrying  onward,  and 
pushing  their  way  through  that  gay  array  of  goods, 
wares,  arms,  and  morocco,  which  line  the  walls  of  the 
merchants’  stalls. 

Aside  of  the  main  bazaars,  which  are  nothing  but 
covered  streets,  are  the  khans  of  rich  Persians  and  Ar- 
menians. Here  the  richest  goods  are  displayed,  and 
within  their  narrow  and  ill-furnished  chambers,  are  ar- 
ranged rich  shawls  of  Cachmere,  fine  linen  of  Damas- 


BAZAARS TURKISH  HAPPINESS. 


263 


cus,  the  wealth  of  the  Indies,  and  gold  of  Africa ; all 
brought  hither  under  convoy  of  the  caravans,  which 
here  discharge ; and  they  also  open  their  halls  for  the 
entertainment  of  travellers  and  pilgrims.  The  Arme- 
nians are  the  true  bankers  of  the  Turks,  who  are  not 
permitted  to  take  interest  by  the  Koran. 

The  Turks  have  limited  ideas  of  commercial  enter- 
prise, as  they  sell  their  goods  by  the  piece ; but  they 
are  never  troubled  about  the  sale  of  their  merchandise, 
and  will  smoke  cross-legged,  for  hours,  waiting  pa- 
tiently until  chance  or  good  fortune  favors  them  with 
a buyer. 

The  life  of  the  “ Bazaars”  makes  up  the  chief  at- 
traction of  the  city ; and  as  they  seemed  always  well 
frequented  by  the  women,  presented  a fair  field  for  ob- 
servation and  remark. 

These,  and  the  thousand  other  sights,  mingle  with 
the  beauties  of  nature,  and  correspond  to  the  glories  of 
this  sweet  land.  It  is  in  that  nature  that  the  Turk 
finds  his  happiness  and  home.  Here,  under  the  favors 
of  rich  skies,  tropical  sunshine,  and  the  contentment 
of  his  placid  nature,  he  revels  amid  his  visions  of  the 
Paradise  of  the  Prophet.  Here  he  surrounds  himself 
with  the  heaven  of  his  women,  where  all  the  treasures 
of  earth  are  brought  together  at  the  “ Golden  Gates  of 
the  City  of  the  Sun.”  If  he  indulges  in  the  luxury  of 
opium,  in  women  and  his  wives,  he  is  comforted  to 


264 


CROWNING  GLORY  OF  THE  EAST. 


think  that  the  Prophet  sanctioned  them  first ; and 
whilst  he  dreams  away  existence  under  the  seductive 
influence  of  the  narcotic,  he  revels  amid  visions  of 
Houris  before  the  gates  of  a Paradise,  and  wakes  to 
the  realities  of  concubines,  who  always  looked  to 
us  like  fat  ghosts,  dressed  up  in  green  and  yellow 
flannel. 

They  are  entirely  a curious  people,  but  not  desti- 
tute of  many  points  of  excellent  example.  We  were 
among  them  quite  long  enough  to  study  them,  and  to 
gain  an  insight  into  the  glories  of  their  city,  at  the  ex- 
treme east  of  Europe.  One  indulges  in  th^full  tide  of 
oriental  extravagance  until  you  soon  cease  to  wonder 
at  the  Turks,  and  fancy  yourself  estranged.  You  en- 
joy the  land,  because  here,  only,  unalloyed  repose  and 
quiet  is  respectable,  and  you  have  no  disturbing  anxie- 
ties for  a place  beyond. 

Each  week  brings  with  it  new  stores  of  delight, 
new  features  of  interest,  and  fresh  studies  of  the  cha- 
racter of  this  comico-serious  people.  Every  day  de- 
velopes  fresh  beauties  and  new  charms. 

And  although  you  may  see  no  Viziers,  enter  no 
Harems,  captivate  no  Houris,  nor  rub  the  Aladdin  lamp, 
without  and  around  you  are  the  Bosphorus  and  the  Pro- 
pontis ; and  in  the  city  and  its  histories,  its  antiquities 
and  its  shores,  you  have  a never-failing  source  of  at- 
traction, wonderment,  and  delight. 


DECEPTION  OF  THE  SCENE. 


265 


And  added  to  all  this,  it  is  the  glory  of  nature 
which  constitutes  the  high  honors  of  the  East,  and 
make  up  the  charms  of  the  Bosphorus  and  its  treasures. 
But  that  city  with  its  emblazoned  palaces,  mosques, 
and  minarets  of  beauty,  deceives  you ; and  they  are 
the  mere  show  of  a whited  sepulchre,  of  magical  fair- 
ness without ; but  within,  full  of  all  manner  of  filth, 
uncleanliness,  and  extortion ; such  is  Stamboul. 

One  by  one,  my  companions  deserted  me,  and  I 
was  left  alone  to  enjoy  the  beauties  of  Stamboul  and 
the  Propontis. 

The  approaching  colds  of  the  winter,  and  occa- 
sional falls  of  snow,  reminded  me  of  the  advanced 
season  of  the  year,  and  of  the  propriety  of  removing 
to  the  warmer  climes  of  Egypt.  Two  months  among 
the  Turks  had  already  surfeited  my  perception  of  their 
manners  and  their  habits ; and  I was  now  ready  to 
escape  from  the  sadness  of  the  overcoming  change  of 
nature. 


Armenian  Merchant. 


DEPARTURE  FOR  EGYPT 


SAIL  TO  ALEXANDRIA. 

Having  provided  myself  with  a firman  from  the 
Porte,  and  certain  little  necessary  stores  for  the  voy- 
age, I secured  my  passage  in  the  “ Lion,”  and  on  the 
afternoon  of  the  fifth  of  December  set  foot  on  the  deck 
of  this  miserable  little  Egyptian  steamer.  We  were 
to  have  sailed  at  five  o’clock,  p.  m.,  but  with  the  delays 
incidental  to  all  Turkish  proceedings,  we  were  detain- 
ed until  dark,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  Captain  and 
Commissario — two  necessary  personages  for  the  prose- 
cution of  a voyage. 

In  the  meanwhile  I was  occupied  in  watching  the 
movements  of  the  animated  groups  on  deck,  and  in 
enjoying  the  curiosity  of  my  Ottoman  fellow-passen- 
gers, who  seemed  astonished  at  my  rashness  in  trusting 
to  the  mercy  of  their  company.  At  length  our  Cap- 
tain arrived,  and  after  one  or  two  commands  from  the 


SEA  OF  MARMORA  AND  THE  DARDANELLES.  267 


Porte,  and  a consultation  of  the  planets  and  moon,  we 
shipped  our  Commissario  and  health  bill,  and  then 
moved  off  around  the  Point  of  the  Seraglio.  We 
were  no  sooner  out  than  our  Moslems  began  their  de- 
votions, and  each  spreading  his  little  rug  on  the  deck, 
commended  himself  to  the  benedictions  of  Allah  and 
the  Prophet. 

The  sun  rose  gloriously,  casting  its  rosy  hues  on 
the  now  broad  Sea  of  Galipoli,  and  tinged  the  tops  of 
the  snow-clad  distant  mountains.  About  noon  we 
passed  the  Castle  of  the  Dardanelles,  rising  fearfully 
over  the  narrow  headlands  of  those  Straits.  Below  the 
forts,  we  stopped  awhile  at  the  low  village  of  Kalessi, 
to  increase  the  number  of  our  passengers,  where  the 
crew  made  rapid  purchases  of  koolehs  and  water-jars, 
which  are  made  at  this  place. 

Near  this  point  you  enter  the  Hellespont,  and  pass 
a narrow  strip  of  land,  which  runs  from  the  Straits  to 
the  Cape  Berbieri.  Somewhere  near  the  site  of  an- 
cient Abydos,  is  the  spot  from  which  Xerxes  crossed 
his  bridge  of  boats,  and  Leander  swam  to  visit  Hero. 

Before  leaving  the  Cape,  you  pass  the  harbor  in 
which  the  Grecian  ships  were  drawn  up  during  the 
Trojan  War;  also  a picturesque  island  and  the  For- 
tress of  Duskarda,  on  the  promontory  of  the  iEgean, 
covered  with  windmills. 

As  we  passed  out  of  the  shelter  of  the  Cape,  a violent 
12 


268 


STORM  AT  SEA TCIIESMEE. 


wind  arose,  and  before  sunset  there  were  few  of  our 
passengers  in  condition  to  enjoy  the  gorgeous  aspect 
of  the  sinking  sun.  We  had  a fearful  sail,  as  we  ran 
that  night  along  the  Asiatic  coast  among  groups  of  the 
Sporades  Isles.  Our  little  boat  rode  with  fitful  and 
sudden  tossings  over  the  troubled  waters  of  the  Archi- 
pelago, and  long  before  day,  I started  up  and  walked 
on  deck,  too  tremulous  to  sleep  secure  under  the  con- 
duct of  these  savage  fanatics. 

We  were  off  Sarkis,  and  dark,  gloomy  clouds  hung 
in  heavy  woolly  masses  over  the  black  outlines  of  the 
rocks  of  Scio.  The  vessel  plunged  wildly  in  that  sea, 
and  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  in  the  dark  sky 
above  but  two  brilliant  stars,  smiling  amid  the  terror 
of  the  scene,  like  twin  angels  watching  over  a sleep- 
ing monster.  I looked  around  on  my  companions  on 
deck,  who  had  slept  above  on  their  mattresses  and  car- 
pets ; they  were  completely  drenched  by  the  spray. 
To  crown  our  misfortune,  a heavy  rain  commenced 
falling,  and  which  forced  me  below.  I threw  myself 
upon  my  bench,  resigned  to  fate  and  Providence,  and 
slept  securely,  until  I woke  up  within  the  harbor  of 
Tchesmee,  in  Asia  Minor,  just  south  of  Smyrna. 

Capidan  Suleiman,  a good-natured  and  portly  Turk, 
not  unlike  our  early  Dutch  skippers,  was  too  prudent 
of  his  trust  to  tempt  the  fortunes  of  this  fickle  sea : he 
had  a habit  of  anchoring  at  night,  and  running  into 


ARAB  SAILORS. 


269 


port  at  the  first  signs  of  foul  weather ; and  once  with- 
in the  secure  anchorage  of  Tchesmee,  he  waited  there 
until  the  next  favorable  wind.  In  this  way  we  coasted 
through  the  Archipelago,  always  in  sight  of  land. 

Two  days  of  rest  within  this  snug  port  of  Asia, 
gave  me  an  insight  into  Arab  manners  and  life.  On 
board  were  several  pilgrims  to  Mecca,  a few  wild  Al- 
banians, a family  of  Jews,  and  a crew  of  Arabs,  sub- 
jects of  Mehemet  Ali,  as  ungainly  and  awkward  a 
gang  as  ever  were  set  to  man  a vessel.  The  chief 
pastime  of  the  Captain  was  to  make  them  cast  the  log, 
at  which  they  were  particularly  expert,  although  our 
reckoning  never  gave  more  than  seven  knots  the  hour. 
In  hauling  in  the  ropes  or  managing  a sail,  they  were 
strikingly  funny,  as  they  had  no  idea  of  pulling  hand 
over  hand  ; they  made  a cordon  on  deck  and  ran  round 
the  hatches  with  a taught  sheet,  until  they  ran  out  the 
entire  length  of  the  line,  in  order  to  perform  the  ope- 
ration required.  Fortunately  for  my  apprehensions, 
our  engineer  had  been  educated  in  England,  and  his 
little  stock  of  English  aided  me  in  deciphering  the 
movements  and  orders  of  our  pilot. 

Our  Commissario  had  disposed  of  the  charge  of  my 
provisions  to  his  suttler,  a miserable,  dirty  Greek,  whose 
long  nose,  slouched  fez,  and  broad-tail  Armenian  back- 
piece,  so  disgusted  me  with  the  animal,  that  I had  little 
relish  to  receive  any  food  at  his  hands.  The  very  sight 


270 


TURKISH  MEALS. 


of  the  man  gave  me  a distaste  for  his  caudles  ; and  in 
spite  of  the  customs  of  the  Turks  and  their  aversion  to 
dogs,  I was  forced  to  join  the  Captain  at  his  meals  or 
starve,  as  my  own  little  hamper  of  roast  fowl  and 
meats  had  by  this  time  been  exhausted. 

We  had  a select  party  at  our  first  dinner  in  com- 
mon— the  Captain,  two  Turkish  Effendis,  the  Commis- 
sario,  and  a Frank.  The  usual  wash  was  performed 
before  sitting  at  meals.  The  first  course  was  a large 
lottery  of  thin  broth,  in  which  the  meat  was  the  prize ; 
and  each  party  sought  a portion,  by  a dip  of  his  spoon 
into  the  common  tureen.  In  the  simplicity  of  oriental 
manners  the  use  of  the  fingers  is  preferred  to  forks,  and 
in  the  dispatch  of  the  next  course  of  meats,  their  use 
was  indispensable.  Then  followed  in  order,  forced 
meats,  and  Kabots,  a delicate  preparation  of  minced 
roast,  chopped  fine  and  wrapped  in  vine-leaves  ; after 
which  pudding  and  sweetmeats  closed  the  entertain- 
ment. All  these  dishes  are  seasoned  with  lemon  and 
served  with  your  hands  ; hence  the  necessity  of  wash- 
ing again  after  dinner,  when  your  servant  comes  with 
a bowl  of  water,  and  as  you  hold  your  hands  over  the 
basin,  he  pours  out  its  contents  with  his  right  hand, 
and  rubs  them  dry  with  the  towel  in  his  left.  Then 
comes  in  the  narguillee  and  chibouque,  and  when  you 
go  on  deck  the  caffeegee  follows  you  with  a small  cup 
of  rich  fragrant  mocha,  served  up  in  a delicate  zarf  of 
filagree  silver. 


BOAT  TO  SHORE. 


271 


It  is  sunset  by  the  time  you  get  through  your  last 
pipe,  and  the  rugged  rocks  of  the  cliffs  glow  with  all 
the  gorgeous  tints  of  an  Eastern  sky.  The  Muezzim 
proclaims  the  hour  of  prayer  from  shore  : Suleiman, 
Mustapha  the  merchant,  and  the  Hadgi  spread  their 
little  rugs  on  deck,  before  they  all  kneel  down  in  wor- 
ship around  me  ; then  rising  after  frequent  genuflexions, 
stand  with  their  faces  turned  to  the  east,  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Mecca.  Beyond,  the  Jew  mumbles  over  his 
ritual  of  forms,  resting  on  his  sea-chest,  whilst  under 
the  hatches  rise  the  wild  notes  of  the  boys  at  the  pumps, 
and  fearfully  through  the  gratings  glare  the  infernal 
blaze  of  the  furnaces  upon  the  solitary  and  bold  out- 
lines of  my  poor  Arab  servant,  Ibrahim,  in  prayer  also, 
at  his  salaams. 

The  next  morning  I joined  the  launch  for  shore, 
and  after  having  landed,  walked  over  the  cliffs  of  that 
miserable  town,  whence  1 overlooked  the  flat  roofs  of 
its  crumbling  dwellings,  scattered  along  the  brow  of 
the  hill,  and  tumbling  in  ruins  on  that  soil  from  which 
their  materials  were  originally  taken. 

True  to  nature,  our  Jews  are  bent  upon  a trade, 
and  I follow  them  through  the  streets,  up  to  the  solitary 
castle  and  to  the  low  shop  of  another  of  Israel,  until 
they  enter  to  purchase  wine — that  musty,  sour,  and 
dull  liquid  which  grows  in  the  vineyards  of  Asia. 

What  a chaffering  over  four  casks  of  the  juice,  and 


272 


RAISIN  PACKING. 


a wrangling  of  Jew  with  Jew!  At  length  the  bargain 
is  closed  at  30  piastres,  about  $1  50  per  barrel,  and  the 
booty  is  swung  by  ropes  on  two  poles,  and  carried  on 
the  backs  of  three  blackamoors  to  the  customs,  for  in- 
spection and  duty.  What  a host  of  miserable  wretches 
you  meet  in  this  solitary  and  desert  island ! The 
women  are  so  ugly,  that  neither  their  lords  are  jealous 
of  their  charms,  nor  are  they  themselves  burthened 
with  the  vanity  of  veils. 

Near  the  Custom  House  I stopped  to  observe  the 
Raisin  trade,  and  the  process  of  packing  the  dried 
fruit  prior  to  shipment.  It  is  much  the  old  story  of 
nigger  molasses.  The  fruit  is  thrown  into  barrels,  and 
stamped  down  by  the  naked  feet  of  a gang  of  Turks; 
a gay  chorus  of  wild  song  lightens  the  jumping  labor 
of  the  press,  and  the  grape  dance  forms  a picture  suffi- 
ciently perfect  in  itself,  without  going  into  the  details 
of  the  gravel.  For  our  own  part,  we  shall  ever  prefer 
the  Malaga  box  fruit  after  that  sight. 

I had  observed  the  Captain,  as  he  went  ashore  se- 
veral times  during  our  stay,  to  visit  a solitary  house  on 
the  sea  shore ; and  that  the  jolly-boat  lingered  at  the 
landing  whilst  he  withdrew  behind  the  colonnade  of 
its  front.  Ibrahim  informed  me  that  it  had  been  for- 
merly inhabited  by  a schoolmaster,  a man  of  great  re- 
pute in  the  island,  and  that  the  pedagogue  had  com- 
mitted suicide.  It  seems  that  the  Turks  hold  these 


PATMOS  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


273 


persons  in  like  estimation  as  their  priests  ; hence  the 
spot  of  such  a death  is  consecrated,  and  becomes  a 
mosque,  “presided  over  by  the  spirit  of  the  dead;”  and 
they  are  wont  to  resort  thither  to  pray  for  a successful 
voyage,  or  to  present  the  offering  of  a stranger’s  obla- 
tion. “ Our  Captain  is  a very  pious  man,”  said  my  in- 
formant. I wonder  if  he  really  thought  so  ? 

The  next  morning  Ibrahim  rushed  into  the  cabin, 
and  informed  us  that  the  Captain  wished  the  Effendi 
Ingles  to  see  his  chart  of  Nicaria  and  the  Fourni  Isl- 
ands, as  we  were  passing  both  within  sight  of  Samos 
and  the  Patmos  of  St.John. 

After  running  through  this  group  of  islands,  the 
wind  changed,  and  heavy  clouds,  foreboding  storm, 
caused  the  Captain  to  make  port,  and  anchor  that  night 
at  Lero.  The  appearance  of  this  island  was  much  that 
of  the  other  Archipelago.  Its  snug  harbor,  and  pic- 
turesque ruin  crowning  the  height  of  the  eastern  pro- 
montory, were  the  only  charms.  A walk  amongst  its 
dilapidated  ruins  called  up  mournful  sentiments  over 
these  relics  of  departed  Greece,  and  melancholy 
thoughts  of  that  contrast  which  these  once  Grecian 
isles  afforded  to  the  history  of  their  ancient  glories.  In 
vain  I sought  among  the  people  some  traces  of  Achilles’ 
greatness  ; but  under  the  lineaments  of  a few  piratical- 
looking  fishermen  on  shore,  I did  remark  some  faint 
likenesses  of  the  portraits  of  those  sea-robbers  so  cle- 
verly drawn  by  Homer. 


274 


REMAINS  OF  THE  HOSPITALLERS. 


We  set  sail  the  next  morning  for  Rhodes,  and  pass- 
ing Calamo,  and  a succession  of  beautiful  islands 
which  stud  the  bosom  of  this  deep-blue  sea,  entered  its 
port  at  night,  and  weighed  our  anchor  next  to  the 
haven  which  was  formerly  spanned  by  the  ancient 
Colossus. 

RHODES. 

I was  so  full  of  the  classic  associations  which  gath- 
ered around  this  “ Land  of  Roses,”  the  abode  of  the 
Knights  of  St.  John,  and  the  scene  of  one  of  the  most 
gallant  sieges  on  record,  that  I rose  long  before  dawn, 
and  walked  the  deck,  to  cool  the  fervor  of  my  excited 
fancy.  A drenching  rain,  which  did  it  more  effectually, 
almost  spoiled  the  sunrise  I had  awaited,  and  damped 
my  ardor,  whilst  I was  shielded  from  the  fury  of  the 
storm  under  the  fore-yard.  Thence  I listened  to  the 
thunder,  and  peering  through  the  awakening  dawn, 
caught  my  first  view  of  the  town,  by  lightning. 

After  breakfast,  I landed  and  took  a walk  through 
the  town,  which  give  me  an  opportunity  of  examining 
the  fine  architectural  remains  of  the  ruins,  and  to  de- 
cipher the  shields  of  the  ancient  palaces.  Association 
was  busy  to  people  their  halls  with  clattering  of  mailed 
warriors,  and  to  bring  up  the  sound  of  arms  and  min- 
strelsy breaking  through  the  shattered  casements  of 


HARBOR  OF  RHODES,  ME  D ITE  R A NEAN  . 


ARCHITECTURAL  BEAUTIES  AND  SCENERY.  275 


these  ruined  walls.  These  shields  evidenced  the  exis- 
tence of  a high  state  of  art  in  that  day ; and  among 
these  mouldering  heaps  there  were  some  rich  bits  of 
ornamental  design,  which  would  have  held  an  elevated 
place  in  the  highest  class  of  the  architecture  of  the 
middle  ages. 

The  old  fortifications  still  bear  the  impress  of  their 
former  strength,  and  of  the  magnitude  of  the  original 
undertaking ; and  you  can  yet  trace  its  triple  line  of 
moat  and  dike.  The  new  town  has  effaced  most  of 
the  relics  of  the  Knights.  The  old  Cathedral  has  been 
converted  into  a mosque,  and  the  Hospital  of  the 
Knights  into  a granary ! But  the  island  still  wears  an 
aspect  of  loveliness  and  beauty,  and  its  pure  skies,  fine 
climate,  and  fertile  soil,  yet  claim  for  it  the  praises  of 
the  sons  of  song.  Its  inhabitants  have  fled,  and  the 
glory  of  its  days  departed.  A few  straggling  coasting 
vessels  assume  the  place  of  its  ancient  galleys  ; but  the 
old  form  of  the  castle  is  preserved,  and  the  memory  of 
its  deeds  of  prowess  and  chivalry  have  passed  through 
the  wreck  of  the  old  world,  and  still  live  in  the  manners 
and  liberal  courtesies  of  the  present. 

Here,  too,  you  first  observe  the  peculiar  features  of 
an  Eastern  landscape  in  the  palm-trees,  orange  groves, 
and  figs,  the  Saracenic  order  of  the  architecture,  and 
the  gorgeous  groups  of  the  crowded  streets. 

The  first  sight  of  that  port  was  filled  with  peculiar 
12* 


276 


COAST  OF  MARMARI THE  ORIENT. 


charms.  The  remarkable  shape  of  the  harbor,  the  rich 
fringes  of  the  walls,  an  occasional  tower,  the  noble  forms 
of  those  stately  Kalas  which  guard  the  harbor,  the 
graceful  sweep  of  the  date-palm,  overtopping  gateway 
and  citadel,  the  lofty  minarets  looming  from  the  distance ; 
the  crowd  of  boats  and  animated  streets, — blended  in 
harmony  with  the  soft  climate  of  this  sweet  land,  the 
deep,  transparent,  ultra-marine  of  the  sea,  and  a sky  suf- 
fused with  the  most  delicate  tones  of  light,  or  tinged  with 
the  hues  of  the  blushing  dawn ; and,  when  the  pale  rose- 
vapor  which  veiled  the  hilly  outlines  of  the  coast  of 
Marmari  spread  its  mantle  of  grace  over  the  Isle  of 
Rhodes,  as  it  sat  on  those  bright  waters,  it  contributed 
to  perfect  a picture  of  rare  beauty,  and  the  triumph  of 
earth  loveliness  in  the  land  of  the  Orient ; whilst  the 
contrast  of  the  noble  works  of  Gothic,  left  by  the 
Knights,  with  the  unseemly  whiteness  of  Saracenic 
tower,  raised  a fit  parallel  of  the  differences  between 
the  present  inhabitants  and  the  glorious  Crusaders ; 
which  is  exhibited  so  strikingly  by  the  mingled  groups  of 
the  interior,  where  Jews,  Turks,  Arabs,  and  Armenians 
are  so  curiously  united,  as  to  call  back,  with  force,  the 
early  history  of  the  wars,  and  cause  one  to  lament  the 
departed  chivalry  of  the  Hospitallers  of  St.  John,  and  to 
mourn  over  the  ruins  of  that  Rhodes,  whose  merchants 
and  princes  once  ruled  the  seas,  and  fitted  up  the  island 
as  one  of  the  most  enchanting  spots  on  earth’s  domain. 


PHYSIC  AND  SEA  PRACTICE. 


277 


The  harbor  of  Rhodes  now  affords  shelter  to  a few 
coasters,  and  the  navy  of  the  Pacha,  which  calls  here  for 
supplies  and  water,  where  the  fertility  of  the  soil  cause 
both  to  be  had  in  great  abundance. 

We  left  Rhodes  about  eight  o’clock  in  the  morning. 
The  island  and  town  present  a fine  effect  in  the  dis- 
tance ; that  far-off  land  is  Marmari.  During  the  day 
the  weather  became  variable,  and  towards  sunset  the 
sky  is  overcast  and  gloomy.  The  dull  course  of  our 
voyage  was  relieved  by  a few  lessons  in  Arabic,  and 
the  mate  continued  very  diligently  in  his  instruction. 
The  engineer,  a boy,  and  one  of  the  crew  speak  a little 
English,  and  in  their  company  I make  up  the  loss  of 
better  society. 

During  the  night  the  wind  increased,  and  raised  a 
violent  storm.  I was  dreadfully  sick,  in  common  with 
all  my  fellow-passengers,  and  was  but  in  poor  condi- 
tion to  administer  a dose  of  laudanum  to  Capidan  Su- 
leiman, who  complained  of  headache,  caused  by  too 
great  watchfulness  and  want  of  rest.  This  old  Arab 
was  so  civil  and  obliging,  that  I could  not  but  act  phy- 
sician without  diploma,  on  the  emergency.  My  skill 
with  the  patient  soon  brought  me  in  practice  on  the 
Commissario,  who  had  been  attacked  during  the  night 
with  severe  colic ; and  although  I owed  him  a grudge 
for  his  bad  provisions,  I could  not  listen  to  his  groans 
and  “ mashallahs,”  as  he  lay  beside  me  on  his  shelf, 


278 


PHAROL  OF  ALEXANDRIA. 


without  giving  him  a potent  prescription  of  calomel 
and  jalap. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  came  in  sight  of  the 
Pharol  of  Alexandria.  On  arriving  within  port,  we 
were  informed  that  we  carried  the  yellow  flag,  and  we 
must  go  into  quarantine  for  ten  days.  Deep  gloom 
overspread  faces  which  had  been  hitherto  animated 
with  joy  at  the  thoughts  of  home  and  soothing  pipes 
of  repose.  We  thought  it  was  bad  enough  to  have 
passed  through  ten  days  of  storm  and  ocean ; and 
that  we  had  been  sufficiently  discharged  by  cascading, 
to  secure  a very  clean  bill  of  health.  The  very  Turks 
vented  their  indignation  at  this  insult  added  to  injury, 
and  the  old  Arabs  looked  sulkily  in  the  face  of  the 
Porte  and  the  authority  of  the  Pacha  himself. 


TEN  DAYS  IN  THE  LAZARETTO. 


Whilst  preparations  are  made  for  our  disembarka- 
tion, I seize  the  opportunity  to  note  down  my  griev- 
ances against  Turkish- Arabic  Pyroscaphs,  and  warn 
my  friends  never  to  intrust  themselves  to  their  dirty 
steamers,  if  they  are  desirous  of  being  well  fed,  lodged, 
and  provided.  They  are  dilatory  and  dangerous,  and 
as  they  are  in  the  service  of  the  Pacha,  they  move 
only  at  the  caprice  of  the  government,  and  no  reliance 
can  be  placed  on  their  start  from  one  port  or  their 
arrival  at  another.  Should  any  one  be  anxious^  to 
study  Eastern  manners,  life,  or  customs,  no  better 
means  could  be  devised  than  a sail  in  one  of  these 
boats ; and  if  you  are  not  starved  on  the  passage,  you 
will  be  perfected  in  their  language  by  a sojourn  for  a 
fortnight  in  the  Lazaretto  Egyptiano. 

Shortly  after  weighing  anchor,  I took  leave  of  our 
civil  Captain,  gave  him  my  salaams,  and  scattered  a li- 
beral supply  of  backsheesh  to  the  crew ; then  giving  a 


280 


ROW  TO  QUARANTINE* 


Kata  harah,  or  adieu,  to  all,  I jumped  into  the  launch 
alongside  of  the  steamer,  and  joined  the  party  who  had 
been  detailed  for  a quarantine  on  land.  Our  persons 
and  baggage  were  stowed  away  in  a huge  scow  which 
lay  ready  to  receive  them,  and  we  were  then  pushed 
away  with  a strange  jumble  of  trunks,  luggage,  bedding, 
and  utensils.  We  were  towed  by  four  men  by  a line 
attached  to  another  boat  before  us,  and  rowed  as  things 
polluted  in  the  direction  of  the  quarantine.  Such  sep- 
aration from  our  motive  power,  by  cordon  sanitaire , 
kept  away  all  contact  with  contagion. 

Nothing  occurred  until  landing,  save  the  accidental 
falling  off  of  one  of  our  Turk’s  turbans,  which  threw 
him  into  a towering  passion.  That,  added  to  the  cha- 
grin of  the  quarantine,  and  a supposed  outrage  to  his 
offended  dignity,  caused  him  to  beat  the  harmless  Jew 
boy  at  his  elbow,  thinking  him  to  be  the  more  imme- 
diate and  accessible  provoker  of  the  insult,  instead  of 
the  wind  which  then  blew  over  his  pate  in  a gust. 

Thus  we  were  dragged  along,  much  like  criminals 
or  cattle.  When  we  reached  the  wharf  we  were  de- 
serted by  our  tow-boats,  and  forced  to  moor  our  barge 
to  the  piers,  so  as  to  remove  our  effects  on  shore; 
another  cautionary  measure  to  exclude  disease.  We 
then  proceeded  to  unload  our  ark,  when  each,  laden 
with  his  own  baggage,  and  giving  an  occasional  lift  to 
his  neighbor,  marched  on  as  directed,  to  the  inner  court 


THE  LAZARETTO. 


281 


of  a prison-looking  building,  distributed  into  several 
wards,  in  one  of  which,  three  cottages  were  set  apart 
for  the  reception  of  twenty-five  persons ! 

Having  effected  an  entrance  and  deposited  our 
loads,  we  all  stood  looking  in  mute  amazement  at  the 
things  we  were,  and  the  position  in  which  we  were 
placed ; whilst  the  sad  reality  of  the  fact  of  a quaran- 
tine was  depicted  in  every  countenance.  This  solemn 
suspense  was  soon  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  our 
attendant  guard,  preceded  by  an  Italian  major-domo, 
dressed  in  a stout  monkey-jacket  (for  these  are  times 
when  a fellow-feeling  makes  description  minute),  who 
poked  at  us  with  his  cane,  and  signified  that  we  must 
arrange  ourselves,  in  order  to  be  counted  by  the  poll, 
and  then  allotted  to  our  respective  dwellings  ; after 
which,  fresh  water  was  brought,  and  we  were  locked 
up  for  the  night.  Our  apartment  was  one  of  three 
rooms  on  the  second  story,  overlooking  the  inner  court 
of  the  jail,  and  bounded  by  the  blank  wall  of  the  oppo- 
site ward.  Our  chamber,  which  was  occupied  by  five, 
was  entirely  unfurnished,  with  nothing  but  bare  plas- 
ter and  an  uneven  floor  of  mortar.  Under  the  proper 
disposition  of  our  varied  stores  and  stocks,  it  began  to 
assume  a comfortable  aspect.  Trunks  were  arranged 
for  seats,  cooking  utensils  were  set  up,  carpets  and 
pillows  were  spread,  and  narguillees  and  chibouques 
were  mounted  to  lend  an  air  of  elegance  to  our  furni- 


282 


MOTLEY  COMPANY. 


ture.  The  novelty  of  this  situation,  and  the  fatigue 
occasioned  by  a porterage  of  heavy  trunks,  brought 
with  it  a slight  turn  of  despond,  from  which  I was  soon 
relieved  by  the  timely  sympathy  of  a friendly  Turk, 
who  took  compassion  on  my  solitude,  and  charged 
himself  with  making  me  as  comfortable  as  circum- 
stances would  admit.  One  European,  among  twenty- 
four  barbarians,  feels  wofully  the  disuse  of  civilization 
among  a crowd  of  Turks,  Arabians,  Albanians,  Nubi- 
ans, and  Jews. 

My  courage  did  not  desert  me  in  this  strange  jar- 
gon of  my  cell,  and  the  best  use  was  made  of  the  Ara- 
bic phrases  learnt  on  shipboard.  I felt  that  diffidence 
was  misplaced,  when  the  want  of  tongue  might  entail 
an  absence  of  food. 

Preparations^were  soon  made  for  our  evening  meal ; 
and  whilst  the  savory  stew  of  brown  bread  and  vinegar 
is  simmering  over  the  glowing  embers  of  our  charcoal 
furnace,  and  our  gurgling  narguillees  keep  sonorous 
accord  with  the  bubbling  caldron,  I occupy  myself  with 
the  features  of  my  strange  room-mates. 

Under  the  lingering  rays  of  sunset,  stealing  through 
the  lattice  of  our  grated  windows,  I mark  the  strong 
outlines  of  our  hero  of  the  Lost  Turban,  whose  squinty 
eyes  shine  with  the  obliquity  of  daylight ; nearest  the 
window  is  a Turkish  soldier  dressed  in  the  army  gray, 
and  by  his  side,  my  friend  in  misfortune,  a stalwart  lad 


A NIGHT  IN  QUARANTINE. 


283 


of  a merry  laugh  and  countenance,  who  officiates  as 
our  valet,  and  works  awhile  with  the  cook  ; whilst 
your  Frank  is  shivering  for  want  of  cloak,  withdrawn 
from  the  rest  of  the  company.  Thus  seated  and  apart, 
I listened  awhile  to  the  animated  gabble  of  these  Mus- 
sulmen,  until  fatigue  and  the  excitement  of  the  day 
brought  with  it  gentle  slumber,  which  was  occasion- 
ally disturbed  by  the  whooping,  wheezing  cough  of  our 
watch-drub,  who  snored  with  all  the  variations  of  a 
donkey,  and  kept  me  awake  to  sharp  sensations  of  cold 
until  I fell  asleep,  with  a determination  to  endure,  and 
to  make  the  best  of  what  was  excellent  practice  for 
one,  who  was  about  to  travel  in  the  interior  of  Egypt. 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning,  we  were  awak- 
ened by  the  stirring  beat  of  the  reveillee.  Then  break- 
fast was  prepared  from  stewed  figs  and  dip  toast,  after 
which  narguillees  and  pipes  ; and  whilst  our  apartment 
is  swept  out  and  garnished,  and  we  are  awaiting  the 
first  visit  of  the  health-officer,  I dispatched  a letter  to 
our  Consul  at  Alexandria,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing it  well  cut  and  smoked,  before  it  was  mailed  for 
the  city. 

One  smiles  through  provocation  at  the  whole  order 
of  quarantine  arrangements.  Their  whole  design  tends 
rather  to  render  them  gloomy  and  cheerless  abodes, 
and  to  induce  disease,  rather  than  to  enliven  these 
salutary  lessons  of  health.  No  communication  or  con- 


284 


POMPOUS  OFFICIALS. 


tact  is  allowed  with  the  external  world.  Victuals,  let- 
ters, clothing,  and  every  thing  you  desire,  comes  to  you 
through  the  transition  interval  of  that  railed  passage, 
through  which  every  article  is  slid  on  a railway,  in  a 
box  attached  to  a long  pole. 

Your  medium  of  exchange  is  by  depositing  your 
money  in  this  box,  and  after  it  has  been  taken  out  and 
dipped  in  vinegar,  your  orders  are  filled,  and  the  poles 
shoved  back  with  the  articles  exchanged. 

We  are  looked  at,  talked  to,  and  regarded  very 
much  as  if  we  were  beasts  in  a menagerie. 

Just  then  our  Domo,  the  Prince  of  Inspectors,  en- 
tered, followed  by  his  servant  armed  with  a pair  of 
tongs.  He  orders  the  rooms  to  be  cleared,  and  our 
trunks  to  be  opened,  in  order  to  satisfy  himself  that 
they  contained  no  articles  infected  or  latent  with  con- 
tagion. Every  thing  is  turned  over  and  upset  by  the 
peering  tongs  of  the  guard,  and  this  chiffonier  of  health 
throws  together  all  soiled  clothing  as  polluted  subjects. 
Fortunately  for  myself,  my  trunk  had  gone  through 
quarantine  before  me,  and  thus  escaped  too  close  a 
prying. 

In  my  anxiety  to  inquire  for  my  companions  who 
had  preceded  me  to  the  East,  I overran  the  legal  limits, 
but  the  snapping  forks  of  these  ugly  tongs,  as  they 
closed  upon  my  ear,  soon  brought  me  back  within  the 
prescribed  distance.  Every  official  wears  an  air  of 


VISIT  OF  THE  DOCTOR. 


285 


suspected  corruption.  The  Commissario  grows  warm 
in  the  chase  of  evils,  and  ardent  in  the  purging  of  dis- 
ease. 

The  doctor  arrives,  and  as  we  stand  in  file,  we  are 
specially  examined  as  to  our  health. 

Fortunately  for  me,  the  Medico  spoke  French; 
even  his  aspect  was  awfully  remote  and  distant.  “ Que 
voulez  vous  ?”  asks  the  doctor,  smiling  and  bowing  as 
I approach.  “ Allez  vous  en”  struck  up  the  tongs,  as 
I jumped  back  and  replied : “ Give  my  letter  to  the 
post,  and  send  me  some  bedding  and  something  to  eat 
from  the  city ; get  me  some  coverlets,  for  I am  not 
used  to  sleeping  on  mortar  and  carrying  my  trunk  to 
bed  for  a pillow.”  “ Tres  bien,  vous  en  serez  servi. 
Au  revoir.” 

Shortly  after,  as  I was  sunning  myself  in  the  yard, 
the  guard  called  out  for  the  Inglez,  and  another  visitor  is 
announced  from  the  railing.  “ Haben  sie  mein  freund 
gesehen?”  says  a coarse  Dutchman  over  the  fence. 
“Kommend  von  Rhodes  to  Scandria?”  “Nein,  mein 
herr !”  No.  “ Was  fur  ein  man,  war  er  ?”  Just  then, 
I heard  a whisper  through  the  bars,  uttering  “ what 
horrid  Dutch !”  and  I retired  with  disgust,  as  he  asked 
again  what  profession  I was  of,  telling  him  it  was  none 
of  his  business,  and  bidding  him  good  morning.  It  is 
bad  enough  to  become  Polyglot,  without  being  required 
to  be  ubiquitous. 


286 


SMOKING  A TRAVELLER. 


After  this,  I returned  to  my  cell,  repeated  a few 
Arabic  phrases,  and  growled,  verily,  like  a beast,  “ simi- 
lis,  similibus.”  Living  in  dens  engenders  animal  pro- 
pensities, but  even  your  bestiality  grows  too  sensible 
when  fleas  and  insects  creep  into  your  skin  for 
lodgings. 

It  was  a curious  scene  to  watch  the  curing  of  my 
companions,  who  were  stripped  to  the  waists  and  tho- 
roughly smoked  with  borax,  whilst  I was  engaged  in 
the  corner,  doing  a little  family  washing.  As  I was  not 
smoked  myself,  I looked  upon  it  rather  as  a private 
amusement,  and  a process  undergone  for  their  own 
personal  satisfaction. 

It  is  now  evening  of  this  beautiful  day,  and  the  sky 
has  been  rendered  more  clear  by  the  purifying  effects 
of  a recent  shower.  The  evening  meal  is  again  par- 
taken of,  our  shutters  closed,  candles  are  mounted  on 
a couple  of  tin  cannisters,  and  the  rest  of  the  company 
are  engaged  in  listening  to  the  stories  of  our  loquacious 
Imaun.  “Mehemet  Ali”  seems  to  be  the  topic  of  his 
tale ; while  the  frequent  use  of  “ Allah/'  and  the  surprise- 
denoting sounds  of  “ mashallah,”  mark  the  joy  of  the 
listeners,  and  the  intermingling  of  the  sacred  with  pro- 
fane. 

So  runs  the  monotonous  and  dull  course  of  our 
daily  life.  Our  very  keepers  treat  us  with  little  inter- 
est, and  one  dull  feeling  of  suspense  and  listlessness 
wears  on  the  faces  of  our  company. 


ROOM,  IN  THE  LAZARETTO 


SKETCH  OF  THE  INTERIOR. 


287 


Some  of  us  find  recreation  in  the  court  by  games 
of  ball  and  feats  of  strength.  The  old  Arab  guard 
gives  me  a few  military  exercises  in  Arabic.  Some 
are  engaged  in  washing,  others  in  cooking,  Turks  at 
prayers,  and  Albanians  and  Jews  conversing  with  the 
keepers  outside  the  palisades. 

Our  weather  is  the  chief  source  of  our  delight. 
Such  brilliant  skies  ! and  a perpetual  blue  sky  above. 

The  merry  chirping  of  the  sparrows  that  fly  about 
the  court,  recalls  to  my  memory  my  first  landing  in 
England,  and  brings  up  a marked  contrast  with  my 
present  solitude.  Piccioli’s  flower  is  alone  wanting  to 
complete  the  reality  of  my  prison-life.  At  one  mo- 
ment deep  sadness  and  almost  melancholy  broods  over 
the  mind  ; and  again,  reflection  hints  at  the  excellent 
lessons  which  confinement  teaches,  and  this  healthful 
restraint  which  furnishes  examples  of  patience  and  re- 
signation, until  one  feels  it  to  be  almost  a privilege 
to  sacrifice  a portion  of  existence  for  the  benefit  of 
others. 

The  whole  morning  was  pretty  much  occupied  in 
sketching  my  interior — our  parvum  omne — kitchen, 
parlor,  bedroom,  and  jail.  My  Jewish  friend  tells  me 
that  it  is  Saturday ; and  he  rigidly  refrains  from  smok- 
ing on  that  day.  In  the  meantime  I take  a few  more 
drills  in  Arabic,  exercise  in  the  open  air,  fight  a thou- 
sand imaginary  air  battles,  and  follow  the  beck  and 


288 


TURKISH  SALUTATIONS. 


command  of  our  guard,  who  orders  me  to  Ocho  out, 
or  Tailli — men  hinni — men  alii ! But  that  spotless  blue 
of  heaven,  and  the  fine  soft  air  of  the  climate  breathes 
a perpetual  spring  of  joy  and  enjoyment  to  the  heart. 

At  noon  our  Moslems  kneel  in  prayer ; I have 
watched  them  during  the  whole  period  of  quarantine, 
and  they  never  fail.  After  dinner,  we  have  a visit  from 
the  Imaun,  or  priest.  He  is  received  with  great  dig- 
nity as  he  enters,  and  is  saluted,  “ Salaam  Aleikoum  \” 
“ Aleikoum  Salaam !”  after  which,  “ Mashallah  !”  and 
when  the  guest  is  seated,  they  salute  again  in  turn, 
while  the  right  hand  is  brought  to  the  flowing  beard, 
and  these  courtesies  are  wafted  between  the  several 
parties.  Conversation  grows  animated  between  them, 
and  is  kept  up  until  midnight ; even  the  squint-eyed 
Mussulman  grows  eloquent  in  his  recital  of  oriental 
tales  of  travel.  All  the  speakers  appear  earnest  and 
attentive,  and  their  action  easy ; whilst  the  full,  pleas- 
ing sound  of  Turkish,  falls  in  forcible  contrast  with 
the  cracking  and  guttural  Arabic.  Their  action  is  so 
good  and  efficient,  that  one  understands,  although  igno- 
rant of  their  language.  As  they  exclaim  “ Mashallah  !” 
with  wonder  and  surprise,  you  feel  yourself  the  full 
force  of  its  expression,  and  wonder  at  a thing  so 
strange. 

The  next  day  I was  surprised  by  a visit  from  a 
countryman,  who  had  been  up  the  river  to  Cairo,  and 


RELEASE  FROM  QUARANTINE. 


289 


was  on  his  return  to  Italy.  From  him  I was  able  to 
learn  the  progress  of  my  friends,  who  had  preceded  me 
with  my  trunk  to  Alexandria. 

Hugh  Ravens  was  one  of  those  tall  beings  who 
required  extra  accommodations  for  his  person ; and 
finding  no  boat  on  the  Nile  large  enough  to  admit  him 
upright,  he  became  disgusted  with  the  vacuity  of  the 
country,  the  flat  lands  and  drifting  sands  of  the  desert, 
or  the  aboriginal  likeness  of  the  native  women  with 
our  Indians. 

From  him  I caught  a slight  idea  of  that  land  from 
which  I had  been  debarred  by  the  Lazaretto,  and  was 
informed  that  the  Pyramids  were  about  eight  miles 
from  Cairo ; and  that  there  were  some  thirty  parties 
of  Americans  and  English  already  up  the  river.  He 
left  that  day  for  Malta. 

Thus  we  had  been  cooped  for  ten  days,  eating  with 
our  fingers,  sleeping  on  the  floor  among  Arabs  and 
Turks,  and  passed  the  dull  round  of  existence  without 
variety  or  change.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  Jew  and 
his  family,  I should  have  been  separated  from  the  world 
around  ; but  by  the  aid  of  Spanish,  I was  enabled  to 
convey  my  ideas,  and  by  this  medium  to  make  some 
progress  in  the  language  of  the  Egyptians,  and  to  lay 
the  foundation  of  a stock  of  phrases,  which  afterwards 
was  of  great  service  on  the  Nile. 

On  the  tenth  day  our  release  was  announced  to  us, 


290 


OUTSIDE. 


when  we  leaped  for  joy  at  the  thoughts  of  a speedy 
liberation.  It  was  amusing  to  see  the  eager  anxiety 
of  all  to  depart,  for  even  before  day  our  rooms  were 
emptied  and  our  luggage  arranged  in  the  court  below, 
ready  for  the  inspection  of  the  health  officer. 

Presently  the  doctor  came  in,  and  we  were  arranged 
in  rows,  whilst  he  passed  our  tongues  in  review ; in 
the  meanwhile,  a mysterious  looking  bundle  of  clothes, 
shrouding  the  features  of  a Nubian  female,  entered  the 
ward  of  the  women,  and  personally  inspected  their  gar- 
ments and  their  persons. 

Having  been  perfectly  satisfied  of  our  sound  condi- 
tion, and  our  freedom  from  contagion,  these  officers, 
who  had  treated  us  with  such  contempt  during  our 
pratique,  then  congratulated  us  on  our  restoration  to 
society  ; and  shaking  us  cordially  by  the  hand,  wished 
us  a happy  visit  to  Alexandria,  and  a hearty  welcome 
to  the  land  of  the  Nile. 


The  Land’s  End. 


♦ 


